What a Difference a Day Makes
by MissNightshade144
Summary: Emily Prentiss is in the wrong place at the wrong time, and one tragic incident shatters her world and leaves her hanging onto life by a thread. Jennifer Jareau has spent years denying her feelings for a certain brunette profiler and all of a sudden is the one left to pick up the broken pieces of the woman she loves. But can love really overcome and endure anything? Femslash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello everyone! This is my first story, so please constructive criticism only! This will eventually be femslash, so if you don't like it, don't read it. It's rated a high T for safety, and some graphic imagery so consider yourself forewarned, for there to be a light at the end of the tunnel, there's gotta be some darkness. And last but not least I'd love to hear your feedback, and barring hell or high water (more like no Wi-Fi or schoolwork) I will try my hardest to update regularly! So enough of my rambling, happy reading!**

**-Nightshade**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter One

**JJ's POV **

_Stop staring!_

I reminded myself, refocusing my eyes onto the case file in front of me and away from my co-worker whom I had been shamelessly ogling a moment earlier. I heard the click of her heels as she strode to the door of my office, and my heart fluttered at the possibility of what she wanted to talk about.

_Work! You're **work**ing right now, she's your colleague, stop making a big deal out of everything you lovesick idiot!_

I pushed the irate little voice in my head aside and subconsciously fixed my hair before burying my attention in the file again to try and look inconspicuous. But I was having a hard time reading about the horrific and grisly details contained there. I nearly jumped when my door was pushed open, and Emily seemed to notice.

_Well of course she noticed she's a profiler, it's not like she pays extra attention to you…_

"Hi Emily." I greeted her warmly, trying to sound somewhat like the put-together Agent Jareau I'm supposed to be.

"Hey JJ, I just had to drop off the file on the Fayetteville case, are you okay? You seem a little on edge." She asked softly as she slid the file onto a clear space on my disaster-area of a desk.

"Thanks, yeah I'm fine, just jumping at shadows. Comes with the job I guess." I tried to sound calm when in reality it was taking all my resolve not to melt beneath the gaze of her warm chocolate eyes.

"Well I can understand that, I nearly had a heart attack last time Sergio knocked over a vase! But if anything's bothering you, I'm always here to talk to." I softly chuckled, doubting she'd be up to hearing what was really on my mind.

"Thanks Em, I know." I nodded, while fussing with papers on my desk nervously. The smile I got in return was barely a flash of brilliant white teeth, but no one smiles much around here, not when we're surrounded by photographs and files of humanity at its most vicious. She had almost made it out of my office when she was nearly bowled over by the whirl of colours that is Garcia, who was currently clad in a light blue dress with green edging and printed bumblebees tracking lazy trails across the fabric.

"Hey Emily, JJ! Boy Genius and my Chocolate God over there are heading out for drinks tonight? Are you two lovely ladies available?" she asked while gesturing emphatically at Reid and Morgan who were currently waiting out in the bullpen.

"Sure, I've got two hours or so until dinner's on at home, I can come, how about you Em?" I inquired, already dreading her answer upon seeing the flash of regret in her eyes.

"Sorry, I can't make it. I'm going on this trip with my mother tomorrow and I need to pack. One of her ambassador friends from Syria is involved in a charity where they're building schools for the local kids and my mother volunteered me to go along with her and help, at least for a week or so. She hoped that doing it would help drum up business since she's in-between assignments." She groaned and I struggled to cover up the disappointed mask I now wore.

"Wow, that's an amazing opportunity!" I exclaimed, before giving her a congratulatory hug which in my opinion was way too short.

"Aww! A little mom and daughter bonding time!" Penelope gushed, and I had to hold back a laugh at the comical grimace on Emily's face.

"Yeah, thirteen hours on a plane next to Ambassador Prentiss. Fun. I'm actually hoping that we get called out to catch some killer and I have a reason to cancel. I love what we'd be doing and the cause we're doing it for, but my mother…" she trailed off.

"Makes serial killers seem like a picnic?" Garcia finished, and Emily sighed in agreement.

"Well, I have to get going, we have a plane to catch tomorrow morning at four and if there's one thing that Ambassador Prentiss is not, it's late." She sighed, and my heart went out to her. Her and her mom never saw eye to eye and thirteen hours in close quarters was going to be the worst torture ever imagined.

"Well, I hope you all have a good time, and if it means anything, me and my babies would be all over making sure she can't leave this country, but diplomatic status is one thing that even the All-Seeing Oracle of Technology can't mess with. Oh, and I'll make sure to pop by your apartment and see to it that Sergio has food, water and some company. Toodles!" Penelope said as she headed off back to "her lair". Emily started off in the direction of the elevator before I called her back.

"Emily!" she turned, with a look of… was that anticipation? I had so much to say to her, I would tell her how I'd loved her ever since I had set eyes on her the day she arrived in Hotch's office, how every moment I was able to spend with her was a gift, how I thought she was the most gorgeous woman I'd ever met, how I found her geeky side adorable, how I loved it when she spoke different languages, frankly I'd at least tell her goodbye if I could get my brain to form coherent sentences.

"Yeah JJ?" she cocked her head to the side and I wondered if I was blushing as hard as I felt I was.

"Just travel safe, we need you back in one piece." I half-joked before my voice took on a softer tone. "It'll be a long week without you; I'll miss you-erm- I mean we'll miss you, the team I mean." I stuttered, and she chuckled softly before stepping forward and embracing me in a hug.

"I'll miss you too, and the team as well." She mocked slightly while I nestled my face in her shoulder. From anyone else, it would seem snarky and rude, but from Emily, you could tell she was joking just as two friends normally would. Still, I feigned insult, trying to keep the moment light and keep my head, while the intoxicating fragrance of her hair teased me.

"Are you mocking me Emily Prentiss?" I asked once she pulled away, and I clasped my hand to my heart in fake hurt.

"Wouldn't think of it Jennifer." She replied in mock-seriousness. And with a flash of deep brunette hair, the elevator doors closed and she was gone. Little did I know that the ominous feeling I felt settle in the pit of my stomach was true, and I wouldn't see the real Emily Prentiss for a lot longer than one week.

**A/N So what did you think? **


	2. Chapter 2

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Two

**Emily's POV**

The car hummed over the dirt road, thankfully filling the awkward silence that had hovered between me and my mother for the entire trip. The extent of our talking was limited to professional greetings and forced pleasantries as we boarded the plane. We never talk much, ever since I was a little kid, but then it was because she was unable to make the time and put in the effort, now it was because she didn't care. I focused on why we were here, instead of whom I was with, hoping that it would lift my spirits. We were here to help build a school for underprivileged youths who lived in this war-torn country, to offer hope. At least that's what I'd be doing; my mother would probably be soaking in all the good press like a sponge, hoping to put the Prentiss name in good light. We were nearing the compound when my mother spoke up from her place beside me.

"Emily?" she asked, her voice was flat and professional as always.

"Yes mother?" I replied, each word dripping with thinly veiled irritation and contempt, knowing what was coming next. Ever since I came out to her in my senior year of high school, she gave me the same speech. Before any public even in which I was forced to attend, she stressed that I "not make her look bad" or "refrain from any undignified behaviour" as if she thought my being gay was undignified, or that it would somehow show and discredit her entire political career. I mean it when I say I hate politics, I blame it for the reason I was denied a mother. But of course I hid all that anger and contempt behind my walls, tucked them away in a little box to be dealt with later.

"This could be a very important event, it will hopefully attract the attention of a lot of potential jobs for me, since I am in between assignments, and I just want to stress the importance of this to me. Don't mess this up, try to remain dignified, for my sake." She lectured as if I was some naïve child. I nodded silently, knowing that if I opened my mouth to speak, the verbal product of her patronizing speech would escape as well. We both got out of the car, and the hot and dry air hit me like a slap in the face. The sun above beat down like the cruellest of unsubs, and I was grateful for the sunglasses stopping me from ending up blinded. The building we entered was a brownish grey, the same color of the land around it, and the shade within provided instant relief. My mother's friend from the Syrian consulate showed us around, and she hung around him while I joined the other volunteers, who were resting in the room adjacent. From where we were standing you could see local children playing outside with a well-loved soccer ball. The volunteers were finishing preparing a lunch, and one went out back to call the kids into the eating area. I kept to myself mostly, throwing myself into what I had come to do, help. I passed out plates of food to the small and excited children; the youthful carefree nature that they embodied couldn't help make me smile as well. A young girl was chattering happily in Arabic, and I kneeled down to hear what she was saying, when it happened. I had been in the building for barely five minutes, and I got that little warning, that sixth sense inside of me told me that something was about to go terribly wrong. Acquiescing to the nervous side of me, I began to usher the little girl out of the room that was worrying me so much, when some invisible force smacked me square in the back, pushing me downwards into the soil and ripping the terrified youth from my grasp. I felt the gravel sting as it bit into my cheek, and I was just about to put my hand there to inspect the damage, when I was driven back down again by a wall of heat. As soon as the percussive shockwave dissipated, whatever it was combusted, throwing flames and roaring like a feral dragon. Screaming mingled with the explosion sound, and I couldn't tell where it was coming from until I realized it was my own. The sound was deafening, tearing through the small room like it was the end of the world, the ripping of metal and stone, the deep bang that resounded in your chest and assaulted your ears. Pain seared through every cell of my body, every nerve ending was on fire, and agonized tears mixed with the blood that trickled into my eyes. Dirt from the ground rained down from the sky and it felt like the earth itself was ripping in two, shaking and shivering and rattling my bones. My body was at the mercy of this unknown force of destruction, and it wasn't very merciful. After what seemed like hours, the noise quieted down, and I looked up from where I lay. I felt no pain, which was probably a worse sign than if I had. In the sky above me, partially obscured by dust clouds was a post-apocalyptic mushroom cloud. An explosion. Another stray round went off, sending me tumbling to the earth again, yet I could barely hear it. My head hit the ground with a dull thud, and I resisted the primal urge to cry out. My lungs ached as I breathed in rapid snatches of air, air that was tainted by the acrid black smoke that hung over the land like the spirit of death itself. I coughed and hacked, feeling a wet splatter on the hand covering my mouth, blood. Flaming piles of debris were surrounding me too close for comfort. I tried to get up and look around, get away, anything, but the slightest movement sent my head spinning something awful. I saw hazy figures in the distance and I was about to get up to approach them, but again, something told me that they were bad news. Their backpacks looked weird, or was that a third arm? The landscape around me pitched and bucked and through the intense dizziness I registered hitting the ground. The people came closer and I was finally able to focus on what they looked like. That was a funny looking backpack… I cringed as the sound of machine gun fire ruptured the dead silence and I felt my numb body flood with dread. They weren't here to rescue us, they weren't wearing backpacks, the fuzzy black masses over their shoulders were automatic weapons. I threw myself against the dirt, ignoring the overwhelming sensation of heat as the tip of my shoe nudged the ghostly flames that hungrily devoured everything within its path. I closed my eyes and willed my body to remain stationary as they approached; their conversation was registered by my ears as a faraway ringing and nothing more. Searing pain ravaged my calf as I felt the flames inch their way higher, and agonized tears teased my lids apart. The two armed men were so close I could reach out and touch their ankles if I had that little regard for my own life. One was walking and kicked something out of the way and it was, oh my god! Black spots swam in my vision as I tried to erase that sight from my memory, the image of a terrorist kicking aside the body of a small child. I felt nauseous, and I was certain I would either throw up or faint. I did neither. One of the men muttered something which I couldn't hear, and shoved my side with his boot roughly. Despite the excruciating feeling of my leg on fire, the revolting smell of my own flesh burning, I managed to lay still until they disappeared into the dust. With that I sprung up as well as I was able and patted out the flames that had devoured my leg. I couldn't bring myself to look at what I used to call an appendage and instead decided to focus on what I could do to make sure I stay alive. The shock had dissipated as quickly as the smoke which had vacated the crater behind me, and every movement rubbed or pulled at an already-throbbing area of my body. I dug my FBI badge out from my back pocket of my pants and placed it beside me. My team, my team would save me. People would come to investigate the explosion and they would find me and find my badge and call my team. I looked forward to seeing them, Hotch, Rossi, Penelope, Reid, Morgan and JJ. JJ. One of my best friends, and maybe something more, and I hope that we'll have the time to become that something more. I need to tell her, even if I don't make it, she has to know how I really feel about her. I touched my fingers to my temple, the source of what was turning into the king of all migraines, and they came away bloody. I knew that my conscious seconds were ticking away, so with shaky fingers I traced my final message on a flat rock beside me. Darkness was closing in, and the dizziness had returned in full force. Holding my badge in my hand I fell forward, praying for either a rescue, or a merciful death.


	3. Chapter 3

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Three

**JJ's POV**

"Bye Jayje!" Penelope called as I dropped her off at her house, and I stayed parked outside until I was certain she didn't trip and fall getting in the door. Morgan and I were the designated drivers for tonight, meaning I was sober, and burdened with the responsibility of getting my less-than-sober friend back home safe and sound. I turned the car back onto the road, driving the long road back to my house in the autumn rain showers. I wondered absentmindedly what the other members of my team were doing, Hotch was probably spending time with Jack now that he was lucky to have the time, Rossi was most likely at home, in front of the fireplace with his dog or a book, Reid was most likely passed out from the alcohol he had consumed, Morgan was probably trying to decide which of the phone numbers he received tonight he was going to use, and Penelope was probably either already asleep. But Emily? I hadn't a clue, I didn't know what time it was in Syria, I didn't know what the weather was like, and the not-knowing was the worst. I arrived home after my outing from the bar, the happy, fresh memories of Penelope's many tries to get Spence drunk, and Derek and his horde of adoring women still clinging to me as I entered my house until the smell of stale bourbon from within banished them.

"Will?" I called out, almost certain I knew what state of mind he would be in, but needing the confirmation.

"Jennifrr?" he slurred, and he staggered around the corner, obviously intoxicated.

"Where's Henry?" I was suddenly worried for my son's well-being, like I always was when Will got drunk and I wasn't around.

"Why, he's asleep chere, it's late." he drawled before sitting down on the couch beside the offending bottle of liquor. I went into mothering mode, cleaning up the mess Will had made before sneaking into Henry's room to kiss him goodnight. He seemed so peaceful, sleeping soundly with his tiny little arm wrapped around a threadbare stuffed lion that Emily had bought him when he was born. Emily…. Tonight wasn't complete with her, but she's off in Syria building schools for poor children, she's off being amazing. That's why I like her, because she's amazing, she's amazing at her job, she's an amazing person, and she's amazing with kids. Henry let out a soft sigh and I redirected my attention to my sleeping son. I sometimes wondered if he never existed, would Will and I still be together? Of course not, I love Henry with all my heart, but I didn't feel that way about Will and I never would, that spot in my heart was reserved for a certain brown-eyed brunette. After a few more minutes of watching my son sleep, I headed back downstairs to where Will was blaring a football game on the TV. Irritated at his irresponsible behaviour, I lowered the volume dial on the TV. It was when I tried to put away the bottle of bourbon that it got tricky,

"Hey, that'ss mine, I'm not done yet!" Will barked as soon as my fingers found the glass bottleneck.

"They're not meant to be finished in one sitting." I snapped back as I snatched it out of his grasp. I walked to the kitchen and returned the bottle to its position n the top shelf. Will was right behind me, waiting for me to turn my attention back to him.

"That wasn't nice, you're not being very nice…" he groaned, pointing a drunken finger accusingly at my face. "Why am I dating a girl who's not nice? I don't get it… I don't get you, give it back!" he growled, trying to find a logical train of thought before becoming mad again.

"You've had enough to drink Will, go to sleep now." I tried to sound forceful, but he was looking more and more imposing by the second. He lunged forward and grabbed my forearm, forcibly dragging me near his face where the stench of alcohol on his breath was nearly overpowering.

"Give it back or I'm done with you, I'm not gonna take any orders from you." His menacing tone and threatening body language made me afraid, and I recalled a promise I had made to myself when he started drinking. If I ever had to fear for my own safety of that of my son, I was dumping him. I took a deep breath and twisted out of his grasp, standing a few feet away.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow. Go to sleep." I ordered in a flat tone, and watched him slump and stagger away like a scolded puppy. After cleaning the kitchen up I looked in my bedroom and my heart dipped. Will was already asleep there, and I never slept with him when he was drunk. I grabbed an extra blanket and pillow and made myself as comfortable as possible on the couch. I slipped my cell phone onto the coffee table beside me in case a call came for me, and then I lay there, staring at the rain pattering on the window outside and counting my breaths until sleep came over me.

_**RING, RING**_

The irritating call of my cell phone ringer woke me from my sleep. I sat up bolt upright, rubbing my neck after a hard night on the couch and groaning as my head spun from the head rush. The sun was out and shining its morning rays into the window that had earlier been painted by rain. I sleepily grabbed for my phone and put it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice cracking from sleep

"Hello is this JJ?" an unfamiliar man asked on the other line. His voice was hoarse and tinny, but the English he spoke was accented with Arabic.

"This is, may I ask who is calling?" only people I knew called me JJ, who is this?

"My name is Dr. Kinaan Seirawan, you wouldn't happen to know an Agent Emily Prentiss would you?" the polite voice asked, and I was suddenly filled with dread.

"Yes she's my colleague and friend, is she okay?" the voice of Dr. Seirawan turned grave and I sensed myself hyperventilating.

"I'm so sorry Miss, she was a victim of a terrorist bombing at the new school she was helping build. She is alive, barely. She has 3rd degree burns over 20% of her body, a ruptured spleen, three broken ribs, two ruptured eardrums, and a severe concussion causing an intracranial hemorrhage. She's in a medically induced coma right now." Silence, dead silence enveloped me as I took in the news, Emily was caught in a bombing? My Em? This must be a mistake!

"How did you get my number, if I might ask?" I queried, trying to hold back tears that were already running free down my cheeks.

"I was a first responder on scene, she wrote it in her own blood beside where she lay." He admitted, and I couldn't keep the horrific images out of my head. She wrote my name and phone number in her own blood before she passed out. I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Okay. I'll organize a flight to come and pick her up and bring her home to a hospital here." I ordered using my no-nonsense Agent Jareau voice. I was perfectly aware that it was probably the doctor's call when she could come home, but I didn't care. I was bringing her home, whether I was allowed to or not.

"Very well, we'll be awaiting your arrival-"his voice was cut off by the loud whine of a machine in the background. The phone was still on so I heard everything that was going on. "Her ICP's going through the roof! She's bradycardic we need to get her to an OR STAT! Stay with us Emily!" Oh my God is she dying? She can't be dying! The doctor was back on the phone now. "We're taking her to surgery right now, I'll call you later." Was his only reply before the cold dial tone rung in my ear. I was sobbing now, loud agonized screaming sobs as I tried to breathe. My stomach lurched and I barely made it to the sink before I was retching up what little I had in me, burning my throat and coaxing free more tears. I grasped the countertop with white knuckles while trying to get control of myself. After a few minutes I calmed down enough to call the others, I still had to notify the team.


	4. Chapter 4

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Four

**JJ's POV**

I managed to drive myself to the FBI building without crashing or breaking down into a puddle of tears, and I met the rest of the team in the roundtable room. Everyone looked like crap, and I suppose I do too, pale as a sheet with messy hair and red and bloodshot eyes from crying. Hotch stood at the head of the table with a sombre expression, the same one he had worn at Haley's funeral. Rossi stood stoic beside him, with slightly reddened eyes and constantly wringing hands. Morgan looked like he was about to punch something or someone if he didn't get answers immediately. Spence, with his dark eyes, scraggly hair and pale appearance, looked like an apparition, a ghost who would disappear any second. Garcia had trails of makeup painting across her cheeks which she didn't bother hiding, and her red-rimmed eyes peered out nervously from behind her glasses.

"JJ, what happened?" Spence asked in a voice that was so weak and hopeless it was almost childlike. I took a deep breath and hoped that I could at least finish the story without breaking down.

"The reason Emily took vacation for the next week is because her mother was invited to Syria by one of her ambassador friends to assist a charity that is building a school for the children there. Emily came along to volunteer. From what I can understand, they were caught in the crossfire of what appears to be a terrorist bombing. She has 3rd degree burns on 20% of her body, a ruptured spleen, damaged eardrums, broken ribs and a severe concussion. I was talking to the doctor when suddenly a whole bunch of alarms went off, and doctors were yelling stuff, and he said he'd call us back. Then the line went dead. That's all I know" I managed to remain in my Agent Jareau form, the side of me who can give press briefings in front of a crowd of reporters as relentless as ravenous dogs, who can stand by a suffering family member during their time of suffering and offer a small beacon of hope, until the truth ate away at my professional façade like acid. This isn't some random victim, this isn't an unsub we can profile and bring to justice; it was Emily, maimed by a faceless attacker. I started to cry again and Penelope wrapped me in what was supposed to be a comforting embrace, but felt more like both of us holding on for dear life.

"She'll be fine, she'll pull through." She murmured, but was she trying to convince me or herself?

"Did you know that 94% of terror attacks aren't related to radical Muslims? And that global warming actually kills more people than terrorist attacks?" Spence piped up hollowly, almost needing to share the facts out of some comfort, like a child who carries around a treasured blankie to protect him from monsters under his bed. No one spoke another word until my cell phone rang, and I patched it in through the Bluetooth so everyone could hear.

"Dr. Sierawan, the rest of Emily's team is on the line as well, what's the news?" I tried to keep it together, my voice only wavering slightly as I spoke.

"A clot formed in her brain, which was causing it to swell and the pressure to rise. We drilled a hole in her skull to evacuate the clot and hooked up a drain to get rid of any future bleeding, she's stable for now." His voice sounded exhausted, and I had guessed that it had been touch-and-go for a while there. Garcia hugged Morgan, crying out a grateful, "thank goodness!" Spence silently grasped my hand, giving me a quick look of relief. Rossi clapped Hotch on the back, and Hotch released a breath I doubt he was aware he had been holding.

"So she's okay?" I still didn't quite believe him; it seemed too good to be true.

"She's stable for now, I think she'll be okay for you to fly out." At that point, Hotch fixed me with 'The Look', the one that says that I have a lot of explaining to do. "Now, if you'll excuse me," the doctor continued,"I have other patients to attend to, so I must go, goodbye." And then he hung up. The rest of the team was talking in a relieved chorus, and they were so busy they didn't notice Hotch and I slip away to his office. He closed the door, wearing his serious, boss-man face.

"JJ, did you promise the Doctor that we were flying a plane out to get Emily without consulting anyone?" he asked, sitting down in his chair behind his desk.

"Well…" I trailed off, not really having an excuse, "yes." I hung my head ashamedly.

"Any of us would have done the same thing." He assented, and the sympathy in his voice surprised me. "You organize a Medevac to fly out, you can go along. I'll get Strauss to sign off on it, somehow." He gave me a rare half-hearted grin and I was so close to hugging him right now. Instead I yelled my thanks as I rushed back to the roundtable room, where Reid was currently delivering the statistics on head wound recovery.

"Garcia, I need you and your amazing hacking prowess!" I called, and she hopped up excitedly.

"Well, my blonde beauty, me and my screens are at your command!" she quickly walked down to her lair, lime green heels clicking against the tile floor, and sat down, hands on the keyboard in a matter of seconds.

"I need the closest Medevac plane equipped to fly, and I need it ready for a trip to Syria as fast as possible, ignore the time restrictions, tell them this is an FBI agent! Tell them she's the daughter of Elizabeth Prentiss the diplomat! Tell them she's the freakin' president I don't care, just make sure they know time is of the essence." I yelled, watching the stream of information pour in from the computer screens around me.

"Closest airstrip is Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, and I'm dialling the number as I speak." Penelope called, and I was moving again, running for the elevator.

"Thanks Pen!" I yelled behind me, and she gave me a little salute as I boarded the elevator.

"Just bring back our girl!" she called before the doors shut. As soon as the doors opened I sprinted as fast as possible to my car, throwing it in drive before I even sat down. I went speeding out the door and took off in the direction of the airstrip, hoping that the government-issue car would prevent me from being pulled over as I watched the needle on the speedometer fly past the 100 miles an hour mark. After 15 minutes of driving that would have looked right at home in an action flick, I pulled into the airport parking lot and jumped out, rushing into the office.

"There's a Medevac flight due to depart any minute now, where is it?" I asked breathlessly, and the woman behind the desk simply pointed to a terminal. Feeling slightly reassured that they were waiting for me; I slowed my pace to a fast walk. I turned into the terminal when I saw the glint of light off the shining fuselage outside. I boarded the plane along with a handful of doctors and nurses who would take care of Emily on the flight back. I settled into my seat, feeling sorely out of place in my blazer and dress pants, while everyone else on board was clad in a rainbow of scrubs. I played with a stray thread on the edge of my blouse as the pilot went through the pre-flight checklist. My stomach flipped while the engines powered up, pushing the cabin into the air. I studied the cabin; it looked similar to our jet, except it had two stretchers in it, along with a variety of other medical apparatus and machines. The image seemed wrong, the mental picture of Emily, vibrant, strong Emily with a tube in her throat to breathe for her and a drain in her head to evacuate blood because her brain is bleeding from the sheer force of the blast and being knocked around by it, with tubes and wires monitoring her every heartbeat in case it was her last. She was beautiful and strong, she didn't deserve this. No one does, but Emily especially; don't we go through enough hardship each day at our jobs? Seeing gruesome murders and placing ourselves in their mindset in order to stop them. Then there was Emily and her mother, and I was convinced that the gorgeous brunette has never felt truly loved, I wish I could give her that, I want to give her that, and I hope I won't be too late. Wait, her mother, Ambassador Prentiss, there had been no word about her, in fact no word on any other survivors at all. For Emily the trauma of the bombing itself would hurt her, but how would she react if her mother had died? As we rocketed over the ocean, I had a sneaking suspicion that the Emily Prentiss I had seen a day ago was completely different than the one I was going to pick up. It was barely a day, 24 hours, 1440 minutes, 86400 seconds. How much of a difference could one day make?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Wow! That's all I can really say, wow! All your reviews just made my day, and a big basket of thank-yous to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited this story! I'm so happy I'm speechless, thankfully writing doesn't involve talking! I apologize if I mess up any of the medical procedures, I'm not a doctor, and the only research I have is the internet and episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Most of the story from now onward will be JJ's point of view, so I'll only label it if I change unexpectedly. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story, and without further ado, here's chapter five!**

**-Nightshade**

**By the way, I don't own Criminal minds or its characters; if I did Paget Brewster would not be leaving the show.**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Five

The plane touched down on Syrian soil with a dull thud, much like the hollow and erratic beating of my nervous heart. Of all the situations I've ever been in, getting shot at, beaten up, nearly attacked by dogs, this was the most nerve-wracking. Because in all those situations I had Emily by my side comforting me, and now, I don't even know if she'll pull through. I hopped out of the plane and was greeted by a nondescript black car with tinted windows, sent to pick me up. The car looked like it was armoured, and the glass on the windows was abnormally thick. Penelope really went all out on this one, but I guess she just didn't want two of her friends injured overseas. Though frankly, all this scene needed was an armoured guard doing the driving! The doctors stayed in the plane, prepping for the incoming patient I suppose, while I boarded the car and suppressed an ironic chuckle upon seeing the driver. The guy looked easily over six feet tall, with a bulletproof vest, at least three guns, and a pair of cool looking aviator sunglasses, this vehicle was a cliché on wheels! The happy moment fled just as quickly as it had come, and I was back in my nervous mindset. We were at the hospital in minutes thanks to the empty road; I guess traffic goes way down when there's been an explosion in the area. Stepping out of the car I rushed to the door while shielding my eyes from the sun, I suddenly felt envious of my driver's sunglasses. The inside of the hospital was quiet, abnormally quiet after an explosion.

_C'mon JJ stay positive, maybe everyone's already been treated and released?_

I found a nurse and asked her to page Dr. Sierawan, hoping he wouldn't take too long. The hospital was one floor, small enough that I could probably find Emily's room without the help. A man in a lab coat came up next to me,

"JJ?" he asked, offering his hand to shake. I accepted it briskly, not really caring for pleasantries. The man was older, with grey streaks in his black hair and creases in he rich brown skin around his eyes and mouth

"Agent Jareau, yes." I corrected since I didn't feel I knew him well enough to call me by my nickname.

"I'm Dr. Sierawan, Emily's room is just down this hallway." He began walking to a corridor on his left, and I followed so close behind I nearly stepped on his heels. "She's still asleep, and I'd like her to stay that way until her brain is fully healed. I'll gather her chart and scans for you to take back to the other doctors." He excused himself, and I walked over to Emily's bedside. All my mental images could not have prepared me for the real thing. Tears misted over my eyes before I'd even gotten a glimpse of her, and I blinked them away, allowing them to run down my cheeks. All I could see were wires, leads on her chest, needles in her arm, tubes in her throat. Every visible inch of her gorgeous skin, once as pristine as a porcelain doll, was marred my scratches or scrapes. Her right leg was hanging out of the thin hospital blanket, and had been bandaged from toe to hip. Every rise and fall of her chest was forced by the machines, and grated through her battered lungs. Everything about this scene felt horribly wrong, like a nightmare, she was not supposed to be this broken. I took her hand in mine, being careful not to jostle the IV line connected there, and just savoured the feeling of her warmth. Now that felt right. I tried to calm myself down before I broke down crying, this wasn't the time or the place and Emily needed someone to be strong for her, so I remained in-control and stoic, leaning over to stroke her ebony hair.

"Oh Em, why is it always you?" I whispered, thinking back to the incident with Doyle. There she was gone, completely. We had to pretend she was dead, but it still felt like she was gone. At least she's here now, I can see her and touch her and hear her breathing, that's better than her just disappearing right? The doctor returned with a binder and some large envelopes.

"She's ready to be discharged now." He was talking, but I wasn't really listening, still focused on Emily's sleeping face until he started disconnecting the machines.

"Doesn't she need those?" my eyes shot up, suddenly nervous that he would press a button and Emily would vanish.

"No, she's breathing over the ventilator, and she doesn't need the medications now. All she needs is time, with these types of brain injuries, time is needed to heal." Her brain, what if she had injured it too badly? What if she woke up and couldn't remember anything, or couldn't talk, or couldn't move? A new door full of terrifying possibilities was thrown open. In the face of all this overwhelming panic, I felt numb. I couldn't feel the tears in my eyes or the breath in my lungs, all I was aware of was the soothing warmth of Emily's hand which served as a constant reminder that she was still alive. The doctor had finished, and was standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Well, I'll call an orderly to move the gurney, I have other patients to attend to so-" I cut him off, remembering my thoughts earlier while on the plane.

"Wait, have you heard any news on an Elizabeth Prentiss? She's Emily's mother, is she a patient here or is she being treated at a different hospital?" I didn't need to be a profiler to see his face fall and realize the next news I was about to receive wasn't going to be good news.

"When the device detonated, it was very powerful, designed for minimum survival. It was timed just so that everyone had entered the building, and was within range. It threw a lot of shrapnel around; there was a lot of carnage and few survivors. And as sad as I am to say this, there aren't any patients that go by that name, none even old enough to be her mother. We treated a little girl, and two little boys and those were the only ones who made it, I'm sorry." His words rang in my ears. Emily's mother can't be dead, she can't! I mean this is bad enough but that news could cripple her! I began hyperventilating, grasping onto the rails of the hospital bed to stop me from falling over as black spots danced in front of my vision. This was all too much! Please tell me this is a nightmare, and I'll wake up at home with Henry after a night out with the team, awaiting Emily's arrival to hear about her stories from her trip. I screwed my eyelids shut, begging it all to disappear when they opened again. But of course it didn't. Dr. Sierawan was about to leave before he stopped, looking as if he'd forgotten something.

"Agent Jareau, she also- over the phone I didn't get to tell you the entire message she'd written, the photos of the scene are in here." He passed me a small white envelope before walking out. I struggled to get the envelope open with one hand, but I sure as heck wasn't going to let go of Emily's hand to free up my other one. Flipping through the pictures quickly, I tried not to see the images seared onto the shiny paper, pictures of my friend at her worst possible moment, until I found the one. With shaky script in a rusty red against a flat slab of grey concrete, was my phone number, and the attached message,

"_JJ, I love you, Emily"_

Was this some kind of a sick joke, or was it true, did she love me? The little voice of scepticism in my head was blocked out by the unexpected well of happiness. This was the last thing she wanted to say, out of anything she wanted to tell me she loved me. Forget the scepticism, that means something.

"Emily, I got your message, I love you too, but I really need you to wake up right now, I need to tell it to your face, I need you to open your eyes and tell me!" I begged softly, hoping she could hear me. The orderly came to bring her out to the car, and I refused to leave her side or let go of her hand. Once inside we were headed straight for the airport. I kept muttering to her, talking about anything and everything, the night out with the team, Henry and how much he's grown, Will and how much he was pissing me off, just talking to fill the air. When we boarded the plane I was pushed aside by the doctors and nurses waiting aboard. I sat in the corner of the plane, waiting impatiently for them to leave her alone so I could go back over there. We were waiting now, just as the doctor said. It was a waiting game and only time would tell if I'd ever hear her say that she loves me back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N hello again! I'm posting two in one day, hope you enjoy it!**

**Again, I don't own Criminal Minds! If I did Jemily would be real!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Six

It was rainy here, the type of rain that drizzles and drips for hours on end, never quite stopping, and you start to forget when it even began. So was the same with Emily's condition. We had landed six hours ago, and I had tailed the waiting ambulance to the hospital nearest to Quantico. As soon as we got in they had taken Emily off to surgery, hoping to repair things that they didn't have the equipment to do back in Syria, like skin grafts for her burns on her leg, and surgery to repair her ruptured eardrums. So I waited, stuck in a drab waiting room on squeaky plastic chairs, staring at the faded print of a flower hanging on the wall. She had come out of surgery just fine, which left me here, sitting in her hospital room staring at the rain. The team was due to come, though they were flying back from a case in Florida so they'd be a while. I was alone with Emily for a few hours more, and I was planning on spending the time here like I had spent all the rest of my time with her, begging her to wake up. My head was drooping under the weight of exhaustion, I had been up for almost a day and a half already, but I refused to give in.

"I promise Emily, I won't leave you alone in this, you don't have to fight this alone, just wake up…" I slurred, pitching forward as my eyes drooped closed for a second. I jolted back awake when I felt my forehead smack the railing on the hospital bed, and I looked around in embarrassment, hoping that no nurses or doctors saw.

"you've always been clumsy…" a raspy voice sighed, the words were so faint that if the rain was any heavier, I wouldn't have heard them at all, but I did, I heard them loud and clear.

"Emily!" I cried, leaping up to face her. Her brown eyes were barely open, her chocolate brown irises were hazy with sleep and from the drugs, and her voice was barely a whisper, like wind against sand, but it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. She sighed, struggling to stay conscious against the cocktail of sedatives and painkillers in her system.

"Jayje…Where is she… did I-did I save her…?" she mumbled almost incoherently. Who is this she? What is she talking about, is this a side effect of the drugs?

"Who is she?" I asked, but she had already fallen back asleep. "Emily?" nothing.

"Hey sunshine! How's my sweet pea doing?" Garcia announced, sweeping into the room. I yawned, not entirely hearing her.

"I thought the team's still on the jet back from Florida? What are you doing here?" Garcia chuckled but it sounded far away, almost like I was underwater.

"Wow Jayje, you seriously need this!" she placed a large cup of coffee in my hands and I found myself gulping it down, not caring that my throat burned, just looking forward to the rousing effects of the caffeine.

"Pen, you're a lifesaver!" I moaned dramatically. My mood was greatly lifted by Emily's short moment of consciousness, and this was just the icing on the cake.

"Aww, thanks cupcake, I'm flattered! So now that you've returned to the land of the living, how's Emily?" she was flitting around the room, and the neon pink and orange color of her dress was so bright and distracting I felt a headache coming on.

"I'll tell you, but sit down please! I've been awake for almost thirty-six hours and the bright colors are killing me!" I snapped irritably, and I thought I heard my name mumbled along with the phrase "grumpy-pants" while she made herself as comfortable as possible in the sterile, faux-fabric chair. "She's doing better, she came through surgery, and I swear that she was awake for a second or two before you arrived, though she didn't make much sense. She's doing fine all things considered." I left out the information about her mom, hoping Garcia wouldn't ask.

"So where's her –" she began to ask the question I was dreading to answer when the rest of the team appeared at the doorway, Rossi holding a particularly large flower arrangement, and Morgan holding a cat carrier.

"Morgan, don't tell me that you brought Sergio" I sighed, trying to keep the smile out of my voice.

"Well… uh, yeah." He stuttered, "the poor little guy misses his momma, and then Pretty Boy over here started listing off all these statistics about animal companions speeding healing times of patients…" he broke off as Reid piped up with his information.

"Therapy animals have been proven to reduce a patient's need for medication and lower anxiety. No one's quite sure why, but it's proven."

"Thanks Spence, but how did you guys get him in here? I mean he's not a licensed therapy animal, and the hospital doesn't allow random pets in here." I was still sceptical, and I didn't want to get in trouble for bringing in an illegal cat.

"Well, Morgan started flirting with the nurse at the front desk, which apparently was a good enough distraction, and when we ran into another nurse in the hallway we told her it was a cake, but we just didn't have a cake carrier to put it in, she gave us a weird look, but let us go." Rossi explained before giving us a lopsided grin and I let out a throaty laugh. They may be some of the brightest minds and best profilers in the world, but I worked with a … "special" group of people. Morgan took a quick peek outside before shutting the door to the hospital room. He laid a blanket over Emily's sleeping form, and let the little black cat out. He immediately curled up on Emily's abdomen and fell asleep, eliciting an "aww!" from Garcia.

"So how's she doing?" Hotch asked, showing that rare smile again.

"Better, she's recovering from her surgeries nicely, and she was semi-conscious for a short period of time." Everyone in the room visibly brightened up at that statement.

"And the Ambassador?" Hotch continued. I shook my head no, unable to get the words out of my throat. The team was silent, wordlessly mourning the loss of life. After a minute or so, Morgan cleared his throat.

"JJ, you can head home for the night, I'll stay with her tonight so you can get some rest." He offered, and the sentiment of his offer touched me, but I refused to leave her side.

"No thank you, I'm fine Derek, I'll stay with her. I want to be here when she wakes up." His eyes flickered between me and Emily, and I saw that he knew something was up.

"Alright, anything I can get for you then?" he asked, his voice sincerely wanting to help with anything he could, but I could tell that he also wanted a chance to talk with me in a less crowded setting.

"My go-bag would be great, thanks; it's in the trunk of my car." I passed him the car keys, pointing to a button on the electronic key fob. "This one beeps it once and blinks the lights, you should be able to see it in the parking lot no problem." Morgan disappeared from the room, and I could tell everyone else was getting ready to leave. Reid was struggling to catch Sergio, who, as soon as he noticed he had to go back into the carrier, leapt off of Emily and hid under her bed. Penelope joined in, and after a short chase around the room, they finally got the slightly irritated feline back in his 'cake carrier' from which he eyed Spence with a glare of contempt that only a cat can pull off. Rossi left with Reid, Garcia, and the cat, leaving me alone with Hotch. He stood there, silent for a moment, and if I had to take a guess, I'd say that he's profiling me.

"What happened to the 'no inter-team profiling' rule?" I asked, not meaning to come off as harsh, but I could tell he already knew that.

"The rule doesn't account for situations like this. You can take vacation time as long as she's off, she'll need a friend around, and I don't want her left alone."

_Neither do I,_ I thought to myself. "You can keep track of the investigation through Garcia, write up press briefings from home, and someone who's along with us can deliver them. I've already had to convince Strauss that you're vital to the team when she tried to make you go, it shouldn't be too hard to convince her you aren't." he didn't smile, but you could see the subtle humour in his eyes. "By the way, Strauss approved the funding for the Medevac, but it was only because I essentially told her that the plane was already in flight, and just simply approving it would cut down on a lot of inane paperwork for her. She's got a few choice words for you once you finally return." Meh, I can face the likes of Strauss, she isn't as tough and heartless as she likes to pretend she is.

"Thank you Sir." I knew I couldn't convey my complete gratitude to him with those three simple words, but it was a start.

"You're welcome, and JJ? You two are perfect for each other." He looked me right in the eye, and I felt both calmed and unnerved. How did he know? Is it really that obvious? I tried to hide my shock as he walked away, but couldn't believe it. Was that his way of giving us his blessing? Telling us he'd deal with the fraternization rules and Strauss, who enforces them like it's the only reason she was put on this earth? I couldn't help thinking that I was eternally indebted to Hotch now, for this day and all the other times he's made allowances. My thoughts scattered like feathers on the wind when Morgan reappeared at the door with my go-bag slung over his shoulder, and a questioning look on his face.

"Okay JJ, we're all worried about Princess, but there seems to be something going on between you two, something you aren't telling. Now I know what I think it is, but I'd like to know the truth." He placed the bag beside my chair and sat beside me. I took a deep breath, what was I worried about? Morgan was about the most easygoing guy out there, he wouldn't judge me or Emily, and he certainly wouldn't tell, not even to his Technology Queen, Garcia.

"While she was out there, after the explosion, before she collapsed, she wrote a message on the concrete. She wrote my phone number for the rescuers, and then she said she loves me." I sighed, _she loves me!_ It sounds great just to say the words.

"And you don't feel the same way? Because I've seen the way you look at her Jayje, and it says a little more than friendship to me." So he has noticed, shoot, I should have been more cautious!

"I do, God Derek I do, but to see her like this, battered and bruised and burned and broken, it hurts. It hurts worse than anything I've ever experienced. I just want to hold her and close my eyes and pretend that none of this ever happened." I was crying again, feeling slightly self-conscious at my display of emotion, usually I preferred to maintain calm and collected in front of my colleagues, but they aren't my colleagues, they're my family. Family is there for each other, family lets each other know when they're hurting. We are a family, which is why I accepted the hug offered to me.

"She's hurt Derek, both physically and psychologically, she's really hurt and I'm scared for her." I murmured into his shirt, feeling my tears soaking the fabric. He just rubbed his hand in soothing circles on my back, teasing loose more tears while comforting me at the same time.

"I know Jayje, but she's strong, and she will pull through, and she has you to guide her way through it all, you're the light at the end of the tunnel for her, and she'll fight tooth and nail to be with you." He pulled away, keeping his arms at my forearms. I noticed emotion gleaming in his eyes, and I could tell he was struggling too; after all, he was her best friend.

"She'll be fine. She'll pull through." I feebly tried to reassure him, "Thank you, for everything Derek. Go get some rest, you look exhausted." He offered me a small smile before turning to exit the room as well.

"You too JJ, good night." After he left I dimmed the lights in the room and changed into the pyjamas I had in my go-bag. I recalled an earlier piece of our conversation,

"_I just want to hold her and close my eyes and pretend none of this ever happened."_

So I threw both hospital and BAU protocol out the metaphorical window, and curled up beside Emily on her hospital bed, stroking her hair softly with my other hand wrapped loosely around her waist. I relaxed, closed my eyes, and with the subtle vanilla scent of her hair soothing me into a state of peace, I imagined that none of the bad things had ever happened, and it was just Emily and I, together, like it should be.

"Goodnight Em, I love you." And I swore that in my half-asleep and exhausted state, I heard her say it back.

**A/N and for those of you wondering, I'll be dealing with Will soon (insert evil laugh here). ;)**

**-Nightshade**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Still loving the reviews, thanks to everyone who took the time to post them! Firstly, I know, I did kill off the Ambassador yes, and I didn't like it, but I felt that it was really necessary to the plotline. Emily's a strong woman (she died and came back to life for crying out loud!), and it would take something huge to affect her. I feel like Emily, (in this story) still has that eternal hope that one day her mom will accept her, and having that possibility, that hope of reconciliation taken away will send her into a bit of a dark phase, but fear not! JJ will guide her through. Secondly, I love that everyone's looking forward to the JJ/Emily moments and the removal of Will, but it will come in due time. This was a huge trauma for Em, and it isn't something that a simple "I love you" can fix. For me it isn't so much the verbal "I love you" that's as important as all the ways JJ shows it, by sticking by Emily through it all. And Will? JJ still has some emotional ties to him and I can't sever all those at once. She's had a child with him, and she's too sweet and caring a person to just throw him out without either a lot of consideration or him seriously crossing a line. I don't want to make him too out of character (besides the excessive drinking) and he isn't a horrible guy, but I promise, he is in no way a permanent character. (sorry out there for all the JJ/Will shippers, this is just my opinion, but if you like them together it would beg the question as to why you're reading a Jemily fanfic) okay! I apologize for the extremely long author's note, here comes chapter seven!**

**- Nightshade**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Seven

I was disturbed from the best sleep of my life when the nurse came in early in the morning to check on Emily. She eyed the intimate position we were in curiously, but continued to do the normal exam.

"How is she?" I asked while trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. The nurse gave me a soft look, flipping her chart shut with a sharp smack.

"You her girlfriend?" she drawled, and I had no idea how to answer that. It wasn't like we had dated, or talked about this, heck Emily wasn't even conscious!

"Something like that." I sighed; after all, didn't you need to have both people in the relationship alive and conscious in order to discuss labels? Can I even call this a relationship? Oh Lord what have I gotten myself into?

"Well, her pupils are equal and reactive, her GCS has been slowly improving, she's at an eleven now, so she's officially not in a coma, her surgical sites are healing and the slight fever she was running from the stress has disappeared. I'm hopeful that she'll wake up today even." That couldn't help but brighten my spirits, she might wake up! The nurse left, I was beginning to notice that no one ever seemed to stand still in hospitals. I got changed into the spare outfit in my go-bag, until I realized I needed a way to kill some time. I dug my IPod out from the bag and slipped in the ear buds, zoning out to the sounds of my music buzzing in the back of my skull. The nurse had been back with a syringe full of some medication with an irrationally long name, claiming it would help wake her up, before disappearing again. My phone buzzed, it was Garcia checking in, and she wanted to know if it was a good time to visit. As selfish as it may seem, I wanted to be the first person to see Em, to talk to her once she wakes up, probably because so much of our "relationship" was hanging in limbo, and I wanted to get that discussion over with. I sent a text back to her, telling her that she was asleep, and to hold off on the visiting for a bit. I tried to catch my earlier train of thought, but for the life of me I couldn't remember.

"You've always been forgetful." The raspy voice had returned, and I jumped at the surprise.

"Jeez Em! Do you just wait around until I'm distracted enough for you to sneak up on me?" I gasped, willing my heart to slow down. I couldn't quite discern whether the erratic heartbeat was from shock, or the joy of hearing Emily's voice

"Well, if it counts for anything, you're very attentive; I had to wait a while." She smiled, and I felt my heart soar. I never thought I would see her do that again. God how I've missed it!

"How are you feeling?" I was suddenly concerned, I know she was still feeling the effects of the drugs, but I doubt it's natural to be smiley and cheery after waking up from a coma precipitated by a bombing.

"Well, my head hurts like hell, I can't move my right leg, I can't hear too well out of my one ear, and my mouth is so dry it could qualify as the world's smallest desert. Hey, I thought I was supposed to be in Syria now, was I in a car accident or something? Attacked by a vengeful unsub before I got the chance to board the plane? What happened, and why do you look so serious Jayje?" she doesn't remember. She can't remember a single thing before she boarded that plane. And now I'm expected to tell her? Break her heart? Crush her spirit?

"You seriously don't remember?" her face went blank as she tried to think back.

"Not really, why? What happened? You're sorta scaring me JJ, just to let you know." A cognitive interview, we do it with witnesses all the time! I had to make her remember, because I couldn't bear to tell her myself. Telling the team was hard enough, but to tell Emily, to watch her take it all in and try to fit it in one of her boxes. I just couldn't know that I was the one who caused her that much pain. I took her hand in mine before starting.

"C'mon Em, you remember getting on the plane right? What was it like? Was the flight busy?" I pushed her, watching her search her blurry memories for the right one.

"No, it wasn't busy, my mother was silent the whole time, it was almost scary, like her eyes could burn right through whatever she stared at, not that I'm not used to her cold shoulder. We landed, and got in the car that took us to the school… mother gave me her usual "don't embarrass me" speech, we got out…"

"What else Emily? What happened next?" I had visibly cringed every time she mentioned her mother's name, and I hoped that she was too tied up in her thinking to notice, since profiling me right now would be like profiling a small child who was unable to control their squirming and keep their secrets quiet.

"We got out and entered the school, my mother went to schmooze with her friend from the Syrian consulate, and I went into the volunteer room where they were preparing lunch for the local kids playing soccer out back. One of them called the kids in, and I was helping hand out plates and- something's wrong, nothing happened, but I know something's wrong." She was squeezing my hand so tightly I almost thought I would have a handprint bruise across my knuckles.

"Shh, it's okay, you're safe, do you remember anything else?" I rubbed her hand soothingly, she was so close.

"I moved out of the room, and something knocked me down. It was really loud, and there was dirt raining from the sky, and the fire, and the screaming." Something connected, her eyes lit up in recognition. "JJ was I in an explosion?" I nodded, unable to hold back the tears any more. She remained as stoic and stone-faced as I'd expected. Emily Prentiss, daughter of the famous Ambassador, was always in control of her emotions. "Jennifer, where's my mother?" her voice wavered, as if she didn't really want to know the answer, that she knew deep down that the truth would hurt more than a lie.

"Emily, I'm so sorry…" I wanted to say more, _so much more,_ but I couldn't speak around the lump that had formed in my throat. Still, she didn't react.

"No, you're wrong, she's fine, and I just got a bump on the head, and you're lying! Please tell me you're lying to me Jennifer!" she begged, raising her voice loud enough to make me flinch.

"I'm serious Emily." _Dead serious._

"Oh." She stated as if I had just commented on how there was a sale on bananas at the supermarket, or how it was supposed to rain tomorrow. Like it was routine and normal, unimportant even. "Oh." Her eyes locked onto mine, and I could see tears forming that she was desperately trying to contain. Her mouth was frozen open, her pale red lips forming an O shape. "Oh…" she repeated again, though it came out as a broken sob instead of a word. "Oh my God no, this isn't happening! This isn't happening to me!" she yelled, tears streaming from her watery chocolate eyes like rivers. I pulled her into an awkward hug, minding the IV lines and the fact that she was laying on a hospital bed. She curled up, went completely rigid, her hands fisted in my shirt as she wept relentless, agonized sobs, The type that originate from the very core of your chest and rip from your very soul, tearing holes in your very foundation. I stroked her ebony hair, trying to offer her some semblance of comfort and wipe away my tears that had fallen there. I couldn't bear to pull away and see her heartbroken face, even when my lower back moaned in pain from my awkward pose. I simply climbed over the railing and lay beside her in the bed for the second time that day, allowing her to curl into my body and cry it out.

"Jen, thank you, for being here." She choked out before falling apart again. I clutched her tighter, the pain in her words driving a spike into my heart.

"Em, I wouldn't have left you alone, I promised you that you wouldn't have to go through any of this alone." Her reply was lost like a little boat in the great, black, stormy sea of grief and angst and heart-rending sobs. They eventually petered out, and I knew she must be tired. Despite the fact that she had been asleep for the past few days, her body was under an unbelievable amount of stress, and almost a half an hour of hard crying will tire you out. Sobs turned into mewling cries, which turned into whimpers, which faded into soft snoring. Her hands were still seized in my shirt, not that I minded the proximity. In fact her presence was soothing, just another reminder that even though she wasn't nearly out of the woods, she was alive, despite all that she had been put through she was alive. That to me was a miracle in itself. I was still petting her luxurious hair, still crying silent tears, when Pen knocked at the door.

"I was hoping this was a better time." She excused in a meek voice that was very unlike my exuberant friend. "I can go if you want."

"No, stay, it's fine, just stay quiet, she's asleep." I allowed, not wanting to force her away, she was obviously concerned for Emily, and I wasn't about to kick her out for being worried. "I take it that she didn't handle the news well."

"She handled it fairly reasonably considering the news she was facing." I retaliated slightly, not wanting to hurt Pen, but wanting to defend the woman who was currently snoring into my chest. Emily was strong, and no one could doubt that.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. So how is she?" thousands of words flew through my head, words that I couldn't force myself to say out loud.

_Broken, crushed, crippled, in pieces, never going to be the same, shattered, damaged, torn up, suffering, scarred._

"She has a long road ahead, but physically, she's doing fine." I hoped my Agent Jareau look-on-the-bright-side would help. All it did was make it all seem so much more hopeless.

"How are you doing?" she asked, her blue eyes shining with empathy. She knew what Emily was going through kind of, she did lose her parents after all. But we've all suffered losses, Morgan witnessed his dad's death, Hotch's wife was murdered, Spence's dad left and his mom's hardly mentally present, my sister killed herself, even the old members of the BAU, Gideon's friend and old team were killed due to the job, Elle's father was shot, and parts of herself were taken from her. None of us in the BAU were untouched by loss, all of us could empathize. I brought my mind back to Garcia's question.

"I wasn't the one who was blown up." I replied smartly, trying to focus on Emily's problems, I was here for her, my own issues could wait.

"Yeah, but you did receive the first call about her, you did hear her eyewitness account, you are her friend, you care for her, this affects you too. I can't speak for the others, but I've barely slept a wink ever since this all went down." I forced the words out between gritted teeth, determined to stay in control of my emotions.

"I'm worried, I care about her of course I'm worried. But as long as I'm with her, I'm fine." Penelope's eyes flashed as she remembered something, perking up.

"That reminds me; I received a call from a certain New Orleans detective, who quite rudely demanded where his girlfriend had disappeared to, and why she's been gone for at least two days. I'm pretty sure you're in trouble when you get home." She pointed out, and I suppressed a groan. Will, that guy has the worst timing.

"I can deal with Will, trust me." I assured her.

"You'd better, because I'm already subjected to enough torture due to the images on my screens for work, I don't need it yelled in my ears from your irate boyfriend. I swear he uses curse words that he's just made up himself." I rolled my eyes, great. That guy is so in the doghouse when I get home.

"Well, he'll just have to deal with it, because right now, staying with Emily is more important than dealing with his childish tantrums." I swear Henry's better-behaved than him.

"Okay. Thanks Jayje, plus I blocked his number already, and did some vengeful hacking, he may be unable to use his credit card for a few weeks. I-I did a thing." She blushed, and I couldn't tell whether it was out of shame and remorse, or mischief. I yawned tiredly, looking over at the clock on the bedside, claiming the time to be almost midnight. Garcia thankfully took notice of my exhaustion and got up from her chair.

"Well, I'll let my sunshine get some rest tonight; can you tell Em I came to visit her? Pretty please?" I let out a tired chuckle.

"Of course Garcia, let the rest of the team know she's woken up as well. Just, if they want to visit, make sure it's in small groups or on their own, I don't want to overwhelm her." I looked back down at Em, and resisted the urge to kiss her on the forehead like I'd do to Henry when he's asleep. Garcia gave me a supportive pat on the shoulder.

"Anything for our sweet pea, get some rest, Garcia out." She left the room, doing the courtesy of turning down the lights. When I was sure no one was looking, I impulsively pressed my lips to Emily's damp forehead, so quickly that I barely felt the silky skin beneath my lips. She let out a soft sigh and snuggled closer to me, and my heart swelled with the happiness. When she was asleep, it was almost possible to pretend she was okay, she looked so peaceful. Penelope's news about Will worried me, while reminding me that I had other obligations outside the four walls of this hospital room. Henry wouldn't mind, he did love his Aunt Emily, and all he would do is give me that wide innocent gaze and tell me he hoped she'd feel better soon. Will, well Will was just going to have to realize that I have other people to attend to, and that I'm not alive just so I can clean up his drunken messes, care for his son, and boost his ego. I had other people to worry about, I had these new feelings for Emily to confront, and if he couldn't deal with the fact I had to be there for my fragile friend, well, if he can't accept that, is he really worth my time?

**A/N I know I know, I'm back again. JJ's having doubts about Will, Emily's awake and um… taking the first step of many on the road to recovery. But one thing was omitted, did you catch it? Emily stopped recounting her memories before she left the message for JJ. The million-dollar question is, does she remember she did it at all? Does she know she told JJ how she felt? (Evil grin) yeah, it couldn't all just fall into place neat and tidy! And for those of you who wondered about the mysterious "she" Emily referenced in the last chapter, all shall be revealed in time! The cognitive interview idea came from episode 3x05, when Morgan and Reid do one on a boy who may have witnessed the abduction of his little cousin, but was repressing the memories. And the medical information I included in this chapter, for those of you who don't know, uneven or unresponsive pupils can be a sign for many neurological issues, so absence of those is a good thing! And GCS is short for Glasgow Coma Scale. It's a rating scale doctors use to gauge patient responsiveness based on a reaction to various stimuli. A score of 3-8 is considered a coma, with the scale ranging from 3-15. Just for those of you who are curious!**

**-Nightshade**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Okay, a short note today to make up for the unbearably long one yesterday, (I'm working on like no sleep; I'm not feeling too talkative.) Still loving the reviews, keep them coming please? Oh, and a side note on the whole disclaimer thing, I keep forgetting to write them, and I'm not sure it's even legally binding, so I'll just stick with this. If I owned CM I would be writing scripts instead of Fanfics! Hopefully this will make up for my forgetfulness, don't sue me CM executives! (Hides from lawyers) okay, here's chapter eight!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Eight

Emily was still asleep when the doctor dropped off her discharge papers, which I argued him on. I knew that if Emily was awake she would have signed the forms and ran away from the hospital as fast as she could, but in my opinion, she still had too much healing to do to be let go.

"She just woke up from a coma!" I argued with her doctor, a kind yet weary looking older gentleman.

"She's no longer dependant on IV medications, she's fully conscious, her neuro exams are clean, no signs of infections or complications, she's ready to go home." He kept his voice low, trying not to wake her I guess.

"What about the burns on her leg, they were serious, third degree, she says she can't even move it!" something about the hospital felt safe and I wanted to keep Emily safe at all costs.

"The skin grafts have to heal first; I'll book her an appointment with our neurosurgeon a few weeks from now so they can run a few tests and see if she needs nerve repairs, but for now there is nothing we can do for her." He placed the clip board at the end of the bed. I nodded my head slowly, I'm not at all qualified as a doctor, and all the news was new to me. The doctor piped up again, "Does she have anyone who can stay with her? Because she's not exactly mobile, and she won't be for a while. She'll need help doing basic things, cooking, moving around, and she's not at all close to independence yet. Anyone really, a parent, sibling, boyfriend?" Emily didn't have any of those, her mom was gone, who knows where her father is, and she's an only child. So the answer to that question, logically, was no. It was what I was thinking, and it was what I was about to say, but I opened my mouth and instead out came,

"Yes." I wasn't sure why I said yes, it wasn't what I was supposed to say, it was the complete antithesis to what I was about to say. She didn't have any of those things, but then again, she has me. I had promised her I would be with her through it all, and this certainly qualifies.

"Well, I'll let you wake her up and tell her the good news now; you'll be free to go as soon as her signature's on that form." The doctor left quickly, and I gently shook Em awake.

"Em, Emily?" I tried to wake her without jostling any injuries.

"Jayje? It's early, let me go back to sleep…" She mumbled sleepily, squinting her eyes from the bright lights.

"Um, Em, it's twelve noon, nowhere near early." I chuckled softly at her disorientation, before she grumbled and clamped her eyes shut again. "Fine, you'll just have to spend another day in this hospital, and the discharge papers will just sit on your bed for a while, we're in no rush right?" I joked, knowing that would get her attention. She sat upright immediately, her back ramrod-straight and her eyes wide open. She crumpled like paper under the pain of her sudden movement before she fought the pain away.

"C'mon, what are you waiting for, get me out of here!" she scribbled her signature on the form and shoved it away as if it was toxic. I knew she just wanted to get out, to get back to normal and pretend it never happened, but that wasn't possible. Denial was her way of escaping, pushing it away and not having to deal with it, but now she's faced with something that's simply undeniable. I tried to remain happy-looking, not wanting her to worry.

"I'll pack my stuff, is there anywhere you can get a change of clothes from?" I looked around the room for her suitcase while I spoke.

"Yeah, don't bother looking, I don't have a suitcase on me, you wouldn't happen to have any extra clothing?" I rifled through my go-bag, digging out a loose pair of pyjama pants and a plain t-shirt.

"Do you need any help getting these on?" I asked softly, remembering the doctor's earlier caution.

"Of course not, I'll be fine!" Emily retaliated indignantly, as if my thoughts that she may have some physical limitations were completely preposterous. I silently nodded, knowing she would be in a fragile state, and I really didn't want to piss her off unless absolutely necessary. I stepped out into the hallway to give her some privacy; leaving the door a crack open so I could hear her if she called for help. Minutes passed, and I heard the rustling of fabric finally stop.

"JJ?" a weak voice called, and I took it as my permission to enter the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with a frustrated look on her face, and the hospital blanket laying over her lap and legs. She had somehow managed to get the shirt on, but the pants lay folded up beside her. "I can't look at it; I can't bear to look at it." She gestured to her blanket-clad leg. Her burns. From what little experience I had with severe burns, I knew they weren't the most aesthetically-pleasing injuries. I gently moved the blanket off her bare legs, taking in the sight before me. From foot to calf, her leg was covered with skin grafts, covering her once-ivory skin with a patchwork quilt of red, swollen mesh and skin, and then from her knee to the hem of her panties it was less severe, grafts in isolated patches surrounded by ripples of pink shiny burn scars. I heard a whimper above me, and saw Emily facing the opposite direction. I took care not to lean on her injured leg as I looked into her eyes. Hot, angry, shameful tears spilled over her lids as she tried to look away. I gently turned her to face me, savouring the silky feel of her cheek against my hand. My stomach twisted as she fixed me with a look brimming with self-hatred and disgust.

"Listen to me. These scars do not define you, they do not change you, and they don't get to make you feel worse about yourself." the words came out clipped and urgent, I wanted her to listen to them, and not just hear them.

"I don't even look like myself, I look like a victim." She whimpered, still refusing to look at her leg or my eyes.

"The only one who decides whether you're a victim is you, Emily. If you let these dictate where you go and how you feel, that's what makes you a victim. And you don't look like a victim, you look like Emily Prentiss. You look like the same smart, stubborn, vibrant, strong, perceptive, caring, kind, beautiful woman that I fell in love with, because that's who you are." Her eyes lit up, finally meeting mine, and it only then registered in my brain what I had just said. Did I really just say her that I'm in love with her? Seriously? She just survived an explosion and lost her mom, is she really in need of a relationship to worry about too?

_She may not need a relationship, but she does need to know she's loved."_

The little voice in my head had apparently switched teams. She still had yet to say anything, and I was frozen in a deer in the headlights look. I tried to say something, but my lips apparently refused to make words. Instead I returned to helping Emily into the pair of pants. I've more than once pictured what it would be like to be alone with a half-naked Emily Prentiss, the fantasy was so much better than reality. I carefully manoeuvred her legs into the legs of the pants and, after a significant amount of struggling, gotten them up and around her waist. She still had yet to respond and remained silent as I helped her into the hospital wheelchair and wheeled her down to the foyer. Of course the silence gave me plenty of time to obsess over worst case scenarios of why she was quiet. Did she already move on from me? Was it just a meaningless schoolgirl crush? Does she suddenly hate me now? I handed her discharge papers in to the nurse at the front desk, and it was only after I had helped her into the car, and peeled out of the hospital parking lot did I hear her response, the whisper barely audible over the hum of tires against the road.

"I'm damaged; you don't want to love me."

**A/N Emily's beginning that fateful journey down the dark and twisty road! But JJ told her, and she sure isn't going anywhere! I'd love to hear your feedback; it's what gives me the inspiration to write this!**

**-Nightshade**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N two in one day again though this one's a bit shorter than I'd like it, but enjoy nonetheless!**

**Oh, and I don't own Criminal Minds, if I did there'd be a new episode every day! (For about a week or two before my overworked, grumpy actors and actresses went on strike and demanded vacation days! :P )**

**-Nightshade**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Nine

Emily's confession on the drive to her place had shocked me into silence. I was speechless; I literally had no way to respond to that. Instead, I reached across to her seat and took her hand, some sort of a wordless plea. Yes I do love you. We got to Emily's apartment, and already I knew that she was going to need my help for a while. After getting about two steps away from the car on her crutches she stopped, panting out of pain and exhaustion. She abandoned one of the crutches in favour of my shoulder, and it took almost five minutes of half limping, half me carrying her, to make the fifteen foot walk to the elevator. We sat in a more comfortable silence on the ride up, Emily leaning heavily on my shoulder as the elevator dinged off floors. The doors opened and we were off again, my phone ringing halfway to her room. I ignored it, waiting for it to go to voicemail as an exhausted Emily fought with her keys. I got her inside and sat her down on her bed. She was shaking and panting heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat. Without her even needing to tell me, I headed to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, getting her two Advil for the pain and a glass of water, which she graciously accepted.

"Thanks Jayje, but you don't have to hover, I'll be fine." She wheezed, not even remotely convincing.

"You'll need help for a while, and during that while, that couch out there is gonna be my new best friend." I stated indignantly, refusing to let her kick me out. Knowing her and the extent of her injuries, she'd be faced with no other alternative than phoning me up to call me back here. Either that or re-injuring herself from over-exertion, which I was not going to let happen.

"You have a family, Will and Henry, they need our time too, and in fact they're probably the ones who keep calling you." She argued, my phone going off again to prove her point.

"Will's not the one who's injured, he'll understand. Now rest, I have to swing by my house to re-pack my go-bag and get some clean clothes, I'll see you in a bit." I resisted the urge to kiss her forehead like I had done the other night, settling on a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"Thanks JJ." She murmured as I left the room, "Oh, and unless you're as good at lock-picking as Reid, my spare house key is in the little blue bowl beside the door." I took note of that, pocketing the small shiny piece of metal on my way out the door. I jumped in the car, mentally preparing myself for whatever mood Will's in when I open that door. I unlocked the door to the house, nearly getting bowled over by my son running over to give me a bear hug.

"I missed you mommy! Were you catching bad guys again?" he quirked his eyebrow in a questioning gesture and I couldn't help smiling as I ruffled his long blond hair.

"No sweetie, Aunt Em got sick and I have to stay with her until she feels better." I explained, not really sure how to explain Emily's situation to a toddler. He leaped from my arms and ran into his playroom with the speed and exuberance of a bouncy ball. When I looked up, Will was standing there, arms crossed and scowling. I brushed past him on my way to my room and he followed, standing in the doorway while I picked out clothes.

"So you dropped everything and left because your co-worker's sick? You couldn't bother to at least let me know where you were going?" he sneered angrily.

"She's not sick. I dropped everything and left because that's what you do when your friend is nearly killed in a bombing." I replied matter-of-factly as I dug through the closet.

"But you just decide to move in with her? Spend a couple of nights and hang me out to dry?" I let out an ironic chuckle at his complete oblivion.

"Her one leg is so badly burned she barely has feeling in it, she gets exhausted just standing on her two feet, she can't walk on her own, and she needs my help. We're a family at the BAU, and family helps each other out when they're hurt. And secondly, I hardly hung you out to dry Will, you're an adult, you should be able to handle a few days on your own without me to babysit you!" I snapped, he really was an idiot. "Oh, I get it now, if I'm not here to care for your son and the house, you can't get drunk and sit around! Well if that's true, it's just too frickin' bad Will." I hauled my full go-bag over my shoulder and marched out of the room. I know I was being harsh, but he had no right to chastise me for helping Emily out!

"Oh yeah, just walk away JJ, run back to your Emily. You have a son here; you have responsibilities-" Okay, now that was over the line. I wheeled around, my face inches from his.

"Don't you dare talk to me about responsibilities Will! The only experience you have with responsibilities is drowning them in a bottle of bourbon! And Henry? You want to argue that I'm a poor mother to Henry, that I neglect him? I love him with all my heart, which is why I do the things I do. Have you ever considered that I want him to grow up to be the type of man who will help out a friend at any cost? Who's loyal and caring? It's called teaching by example Will, maybe you should try it sometime." I hissed coldly, walking towards the door and leaving him reeling from my words. As soon as my hand touched the knob, Henry came running again, squealing happily, innocent to the argument his parents were having.

"Mommy, can you give this to Aunt Em'ly? It's a get well card!" he announced proudly, holding out a piece of paper with crooked lettering in crayon. I looked it over, my heart swelling at the sweet gesture from the little boy.

"What's the picture of?" I asked, watching as he pointed to several colourful shapes and scribbles emphatically.

"It's of when she took me to the petting zoo! See, there are the sheeps, and goats, and the baby cow, and the chickens, and the kitty, and the horse! And that's Em'ly and me in the middle!" he showed me proudly, pointing to the two shaky stick figures in the middle holding hands, one short with blond hair, and one with dark brown hair and a smile. I kissed him on the temple before proclaiming,

"I'm sure she'll love it, I think this is just what she needs to get better! I'll make sure to give it to Emily and tell her all about it!" I hugged him again before he bounced off, waiting at the window like he always does when I go out so he can wave goodbye. With a quick smile at my son, and a frosty glance at Will, I was out the door.

**A/N Aha, all is not well in Will-ville! And Henry's just like sunshine in a bottle, open him up whenever the story starts to seem grim, and brighten it all up!**

**-Nightshade**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I'm glad everyone likes the story and thank you to anyone who reviewed. I'm glad Emily is finally out of the hospital, but I'm gonna miss getting to use all the medical terms, it appealed to my nerdy side! I may not be able to upload a new chapter tomorrow since I'll be visiting family who don't have any internet connection (the horror! :o), but I will try my hardest, and I'll try to make this a little longer to compensate!**

**I don't own Criminal Minds, if I did, it would have been Emily, not Will, marrying JJ in the season finale!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Ten

Emily was still awake when I got back, refusing to rest as I'd told her to. The card from Henry had an amazing impact on her mood and as soon as she'd seen it her stoic face blossomed into an infectious smile. She'd insisted that I keep it by her bed, so she'd always be able to see it, and I gladly obliged. I was in the middle of telling her a story about Henry when the doorbell rang. I got up and walked to the door, comfortable in Emily's apartment as if it was my own. Penelope, Spence, and Morgan stood there, Morgan clutching a kitty carrier.

"We figured since Emily's back, we could return this little guy to his home." Morgan offered. I wasn't quite sure how okay I was with everyone coming here, I didn't want to overwhelm Emily, but I couldn't rightfully kick them out. I allowed the guys into the apartment, stopping Penelope with a tug on her bright yellow sweater.

"I thought I said not too many people?" I muttered quietly, trying to mask my irritation.

"Well, Hotch and Rossi aren't here, and I couldn't quite blow them off, they're worried about her!" she exclaimed wildly. I rolled my eyes before sighing in defeat.

"Fine." I groaned, before speaking up, "Emily, Morgan, Pen and Spence are here, are you feeling up to visitors?" a muted "uh-huh" drifted from her room, and I led them all in. Morgan had passed the cat off to Reid, who was trying to stop Sergio from knotting his claws in his sweater-vest, climbing his shoulder and playing with his hair. The crazy crew filed into her room, Sergio taking a flying leap off Spence's shoulder, causing the gangly doctor to flinch in surprise, and the cat landed on Emily's bed happily. Morgan took Emily's hand before speaking.

"You had us worried there Princess."

"Well, I'm just waiting until I can get out of here, I'm fine! I'm going to go stir-crazy sitting here on medical leave!" she cried, a little too loudly, trying to convince everyone, including herself, that she was alright.

"You've got to recover first, we need you one hundred percent healthy before you're back to work, kicking down doors with my chocolate Adonis and chasing America's creepiest." Emily had the most adorable childish pout right about now, and it was taking all my resolve not to throw our friends out and kiss her senseless.

"I'm fine." She insisted, and this time it was Reid's turn to speak up.

"Denial is the first stage in the Kübler-Ross model, more commonly known as The Five Stages of Grief, followed by anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The hypothesis was first introduced by Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, compiled from her work with terminally ill patients, even though they can be used in people who've been through traumas, life-altering loss, loss of a family member, the ending of a relationship. The stages arent chronological, and the presentation varies from person to person-" Spence rambled on before I jumped in, noticing Emily's blank face as everyone in the room zoned out.

"That's Spencer-speak for, you aren't fine, right?" I quirked an eyebrow at Spence, who nodded in agreement, knocking his messy bangs into his eyes with the motion. Emily had gone silent, either on the verge of shutting down or bursting into tears, so I was grateful when Morgan changed the subject to more neutral terms.

"Hey, enjoy the vacation you've got, we had to ride Strauss for days for her to finally give it up. I swear that woman's gotten frostier than the North Pole and pricklier than a cactus recently! And she's still mad at JJ for the stunt she pulled with the plane." He informed, and I was still dreading that discussion. Between Will at home and Strauss at work, I wouldn't be staying at Emily's just to help her out; I would need a place to hide! Emily gave me a questioning look when Derek mentioned the plane stunt, I felt an embarrassed blush flood to my cheeks at he thought of my incredibly impulsive decision.

"Um yeah… I kind of promised the doctor in Syria that I was sending a plane to take you home without consulting anyone. Then Hotch supported me, but he had to coerce Strauss into allowing it. Basically I commandeered a Medevac plane to fly across the ocean there and back, all on the Bureau's dime." She had an amused look on her face, and just saying the decision out loud made it seem worse, "frankly I'm lucky to have escaped with my job."

"Aww, you messed with Strauss and risked your career for me?" I could tell she was putting on an act for our friends so they didn't worry, but I played along, hoping at the very least she'd trust me enough that she could be not-okay.

"Anything for you Em." I promised, which was essentially true. Morgan gave me a knowing look before saying goodbye, the others trailing along behind him. Before leaving he leaned down and gave me a hug, quickly whispering in my ear so the others wouldn't overhear.

"Take good care of her JJ." The door slammed shut, and all traces of warmth our friends brought to the home were dispelled to the far corners of the room. I walked back to Emily's room, where she was struggling to get up. I rushed to her side to help her, but was pushed back with an irritable sweep of her hand.

"I'm fine! I can walk to the kitchen by myself, you don't have to coddle me!" she yelled, and I was taken aback by her anger.

"I'm just here if you need help." I stepped back, putting my hands out in a pacifying gesture.

"Why are you here? What do you even want from me Jennifer? Am I your charity case now? Just a toy to play with? You tell me you love me and you take me home and play nursemaid to me, but why?" she was crying now, standing shakily on her own two feet and staring at me.

"I'm doing all this for you, because I love you Emily." I interjected, pouring every drop of emotion I felt for her, all my love and concern into those words, trying to convince her.

"But you're with Will, you have a son! You have a life! So why screw around with me? Why, why…" she panted heavily, the anger fizzling in her voice, betraying her true feelings, her fear. "Why was she even there? If she wasn't so damn concerned with her image and her name she would still be alive! And why did she have to drag me along? I wasn't even supposed to be there, this isn't supposed to happen to me! I'm not supposed to outlive my mother! I'm not supposed to hate her because she died before she could prove she really cared about me! I'm not supposed to- to" she broke off as her bad leg buckled beneath her, sending her scrabbling for her crutches which were already out of reach. I rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her into my figure before freezing, unsure how she would react to me holding her up. She didn't push me away, but instead righted her balance and leaned on the bed.

"I'm being horrible to you, I keep yelling or crying, I can't- I cant, why are you still here? Why haven't you left me like everyone else?" her brown eyes locked onto mine, and I froze under their penetrating gaze. From here I could see past all her walls and instead see the fear and frustration she tried so hard to keep a secret. I sat on the bed beside her, stroking her hair soothingly.

"Because I love you. You, Emily Prentiss, Not calm, collected Agent Prentiss or the dignified daughter of Elizabeth Prentiss the diplomat, I love you. And this is you. This is you after a devastating, horrific experience that no one deserves to go through. And despite what you may think, you're still there, that scared, frustrated, desperate, lonely, scarred part of you that you keep trying to hide, that you've buried deep behind your walls, that's you, that's who I love." Something clicked inside of her, a light flickered to life in her eyes, and before I knew it, her hand was knotted in my blonde locks and her lips were pressed roughly to mine. I could taste all her pain and fear in the kiss, salty tears tainting the luxurious feel of her plush pink lips. Without warning I felt her tongue tracing the line in between my lips, begging allowance. My heart fluttered in my throat as her tongue slid across mine, and I knew right there what she was doing. Trying to forget. I knew I had frozen for too long when I felt her softly nip my bottom lip, redirecting my attention. I pulled away slightly, and even before the hurt could flash in her eyes, I pressed a fleeting kiss upon her tender lips.

"I thought you- I thought." She stuttered, obviously taking my pulling away as a bad thing.

"No, it's not that. It's not that at all. But I don't want you using this," I gestured between us, not really sure what to call our relationship at this point. "To bury your feelings and hide." The hand that had been stroking her hair had moved down to cup her cheek, and I was intimately stroking the soft skin there with the pad of my thumb, wiping away her tears.

"Oh. But what about Will?" I rolled my eyes out of irritation at hearing his name, when it occurred to me. What I had just done, with Emily, counted as cheating. I had just cheated on him. I was used to being able to blame all the pitfalls in our relationship on his drinking, but now I'm just as culpable as him. "I'm sorry, I was the one who kissed you, it's my fault." Her face fell, and then I knew. I took her hand with a renewed strength.

"No Emily, we didn't do anything wrong, our relationship was over the moment he picked up that bottle of bourbon. I was just too desperate to feel loved and too cowardly to admit it out loud." I went silent for a few seconds, thinking about the past few months of our relationship. "He accused me of neglecting my son because I wanted to be here for you." I admitted in a small voice, and Emily softly rubbed my back as a response.

"You're a great mother, don't doubt that." She reassured me, and I laughed humorlessly.

"I'm supposed to be the one comforting you." Emily repeated my earlier motion, gesturing between us.

"Hey, in "this" I'm as here for you as you are for me." She pressed a soft kiss to my temple before laying back and yawning. I took that as an unspoken admission that she was tired, and I gently tucked her into bed before shutting the lights.

"Goodnight Emily."

"Goodnight Jen." She had taken to calling me by my full name, something few people dared to try, and only the stupid ones dared to try again. I had never liked how it sounded, but coming from Emily, she made it sound beautiful. I lay on her couch, snuggled under the blanket, staring out at the amazing view of the Capitol Building, an ironic choice for someone who hates politics. My eyelids grew heavy, distorting the car headlights and streetlights to make them look like twinkling stars that someone had stolen from the sky and just tossed on the ground carelessly. As the last fallen star faded to black, I heard a strangled cry from down the hall, Emily. I leapt up, abandoning the blanket and rushing to her room. Her blankets had been strewn aside, and she was writhing and whimpering in her sleep. As soon as I came closer and laid my hand on her shoulder her eyes flew open, and she clung to me in a desperate hug, trying to rid her mind of the awful images designed by her subconscious specifically to torture her. I held her close, feeling the sobbing that wracked her chest vibrate in mine.

"I couldn't save her." She whimpered softly.

"Save who?" I thought she might be talking about her mom, but I wasn't certain.

"That little girl, I was holding her hand, and the bomb went off, and she was gone." She recounted, trying to quiet her sobs. I had nothing to say, no words of comfort that would make the slightest difference to her. If I had I would have yelled them to the high heavens until she was better again, but I had none. Emily's always been struck hard by cases with child victims, we all were, but she took them personally, and witnessing a child being ripped from her grasp by the force of the explosion was something that would haunt her. I just let her cry until she physically couldn't cry any more if she needed a shoulder to cry on, I could do that, at the very least I could give her that. I moved to go back to the couch, not wanting to leave her, but not wanting to impose when her soft plea broke the silence.

"Can you stay with me Jennifer, please?" she begged, and without needing any more permission than that, I snuggled up beside her, tucking her head into my chest and wrapping my arms around her trembling figure. In the dark of night, when she let her guard down, she seemed so much smaller than she really was, and I counted myself lucky, in an odd way, to be able to witness that. Because Emily was one of the most guarded people I had ever met, and her trusting me to see her broken, was like I was handed the greatest treasure in the world.

**A/N so what did you think? I wasn't so sure about putting the kiss in here, I wanted to hold off for a bit, but I felt that it was needed. Plus hopefully this helps tide you guys over until I really get into "this" as they call it. Please review; they're what give me the inspiration to write! Without all your feedback I would be like… a car without fuel! I'd just sit in the driveway! (or insert equally appropriate simile in here)**

**-Nightshade**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N I'm back to the world of technology! The one thing I always realize whenever I'm away from the internet is how much I use it, and depend on it. When I'm away from it I end up like an addict denied their fix! But I'm back now and battling the ugly beast known as writer's block! I know where I'm going with the story, it's the how to get there that's causing me issues. But in my experience writing, the best thing for it is just to push through, if I stop writing now I'll end up getting distracted by the hundreds of other ideas running circuits in my head! So I apologize if the next chapter or two are a bit rough, but bear with me, I have a plan! On a side note, woohoo, I've reached 50 followers! Break out the party hats and confetti! o]:-D thank you all for your dedication to this story! Although if you ask me, every follower, favourite, or review is a milestone, but with that many parties I'd run out of confetti too fast!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds, if I did; well I'd definitely be making a heck of a lot more money than I do now! (Though I could be employed for minimum wage and still make more than I do now)**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Eleven

In my half-asleep daze, the smell of French toast that was currently wafting through the air reminded me of home. I could picture waking up with my son jumping on the bed, telling me that daddy's made breakfast. But those were the simple days, where Will was pleasant, and Henry was happy, and my work was bearable, and my friends were fine. Some small part of me longed for those days, when my life was plain and easy, when my future was a lighted path, easily followed. And for those brief seconds, in the limbo of sleep and wakefulness, I enjoyed that plain, effortless delusion. Because I knew when I woke I would be slammed with an eighteen wheeler of truth, road kill on the never-halting highway of reality. I realized that Will wasn't making French toast, he never did anymore because he would be too hung over, Henry wouldn't be happy because his mom and dad couldn't say three words to each other without arguing, work wouldn't be bearable because Strauss would be busting my ass because of the plane stunt and eventually, my breaking of the fraternization rules with my co-worker and best friend. Nothing was simple anymore, and life really had a mean sense of humour. All I wanted, all throughout that simple time, was Emily, and now that I had her, everything else in my life was slowly sliding downhill. I finally wrenched my eyelids open, fighting down the pang of worry that stabbed my core when I noticed Emily wasn't lying there beside me. I hauled myself out of bed and down the hall, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes while trying not to step on the cat that was weaving through my ankles as I walked. I found Emily in the kitchen, propped up on a crutch in her one hand, and holding a spatula in the other. To the untrained eye, she looked fine, cheerful even. But me, I was almost constantly surrounded by profilers; I had slowly learned to pick up on certain things. Like how the normally smooth curve of her jawbone was rigid from clenched teeth, or how the delicate curve of her back was strung tighter than a violinist's bow, or how her fingernails, which were once healing, were now bitten and bloody. I walked up to her and placed my hand gently on her shoulder, cringing internally as she flinched away at first.

"Hey, why don't you sit down, I don't want you exhausting yourself." I cautioned, and she reluctantly pulled a barstool beside her and sat.

"Better Doctor Jareau?" she asked sarcastically, to which I gave a sunny smile.

"Much." I sat staring; unaware that the French toast I was suddenly responsible was burning. The smell of the smoke brought me back to reality, flipping them over before they would be too far gone. I internally chastised myself for my carelessness, and was about to make some sort of self-deprecating comment on my cooking with the hope of making Emily smile, when I noticed that she had a faraway gaze in her eyes. She seemed focused on something in the distance, frozen in fear for no reason whatsoever. I reached for her hand to try and bring her back to reality, but the slightest touch to her skin and she latched on, dragging me away from the kitchen as fast as she could go. She threw her battered body to the ground, covering her head as if her life depended on it. Of course she was still holding onto my hand, so I was pulled down with her, my bones protesting at the rough landing. She stared right through me with eyes seized with a primal terror, brown warning beacons.

"Emily, are you alright?" I asked cautiously, noting that she still had the faraway look in her eyes.

"Did I save her? Is she alright?" she demanded, cutting me off at the very end of my sentence, like she wasn't hearing me at all. "Did I save her?" she repeated again. Then it hit me, she's talking about the little girl, she's having some kind of flashback. I reached over, still lying down facing her, and jostled her shoulder, hoping to shake her out of her trance. Her eyes finally focused on me, saw me, and for that second I saw it all wash over her. She buried her head in her arms, distressed sobs tearing free from her throat. I kneeled next to her, rubbing her back gently as she cried, as she experienced it all over again. When she finally sat up, she was speaking in that emotionless, monotone voice again.

"The smell." She stated. It was the smell, the smoky smell that triggered it all.

"I'm sorry." I replied, for what, I wasn't sure, but I was sorry for something, at least that's how I felt. She needed help getting up, the burn scars on her leg making it stiff and hard to move. I finally got her back over to the table, and set a plate of non-burnt French toast in front of her. She ate robotically, not even looking up.

"This was supposed to be for you, I was cooking to say thank you, for last night, and for everything." She whimpered softly, and I squeezed her hand softly. I was about to reply when the shrill tone of my cell phone stole the words straight from my mouth. I gave her an apologetic gaze before picking it up.

"Agent Jennifer Jareau speaking."

"JJ, it's Hotch, we need you in the office now, it'll be for an hour or two tops. You know I wouldn't call if it wasn't urgent." Everything about his voice was apologetic.  
"Yeah sure, I'll be there in ten minutes." I snapped the phone closed, seeing Emily's heartbroken face.

"You're leaving me?" her voice held the same apprehension as Henry's had the first time I'd dropped him off at the new babysitter's.

"It's barely an hour, I'm sorry, Hotch made it sound like a real emergency, I'll be back as quickly as possible." I vowed, and to emphasize my point I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. I dashed into the bedroom, grabbing a pair of slacks, blouse, and heels, and I was out the door. The inside of the BAU was buzzing with activity when I arrived, and I spotted a frazzled Hotch on the opposite side of the bullpen.

"What's wrong?" I dashed up to him, not bothering with any pleasantries.

"There was a security breach, an unsub with a partner who worked here smuggled some employee files out, and now we're all at risk. The media is ripping us to shreds over this, I need you out there, they know who you are, they trust you, and you're the only one who knows how to deal with them." Hotch ordered, and with that information, I rushed out to face the camera-toting vultures. True to his word, in almost an hour and a half we had decent damage control on the incident, and had names for the unsubs. I was just about to leave when Strauss stepped out of her office.

"Agent Jareau, may I have a word with you in my office?" I marched down the hall with a similar feeling to when I was in fourth grade and got called down to the principal's office for hitting Marcus Steiner, the school bully, when he called me weak. I entered Strauss' office carefully, as if the door was booby-trapped.

"Agent Jareau, I've had some concerns about your decision making ever since Agent Prentiss' injury. You've completely crossed the line, commandeering a plane out of the FBI's pocket, demanding vacation time-"

"Agent Hotchner offered it, I never demanded any vacation time." I left out the part of how I probably would have demanded it if he hadn't offered.

"That's beside the point, you have a job here, and Agent Prentiss' state of mind or her health does not take priority over your job." I felt anger simmering in my chest, and I struggled to remain in control.

"With all due respect Ma'am" I suddenly wished I had Emily's ability to make Ma'am sound like the most disgusting word on the planet, "you have no idea of Agent Prentiss' mental status or her health." Her professional tone of voice was irritating me, like Emily's life was less important than balancing our budgets, or increasing our cases solved rate.

"Nevertheless, she's a grown woman, and-" with that snippet of a rebuttal, I exploded.

"She's not fine! She flung herself into a fetal position on the floor because of the smell of burning toast! She needs someone with her, and Agent Hotchner recognized that. Her mother died. She died! She needs time to recover from that! So you can fire me, or write me up for disciplinary actions, or suspend me, but my friend needs me. We're a team Ma'am, and that willingness is what makes us all a good team." I didn't bother giving her time to respond, before turning on my heel and stalking out the door.

"JJ, are you alright?" Spence asked as I passed by him in the hall. I barely bothered muttering an unconvincing "I'm fine" before I was on the elevator, itching to be home with Emily. While driving up to the apartment, I noticed a familiar detective standing out front, and I sighed in annoyance. What was Will doing here? And where's my son?

"Will, where's Henry?" I demanded as I stepped out of the car and into the freezing rain.

"Why he's in the car chere, I'm not a bad parent, I wouldn't neglect him, like you." he slurred. Okay, he calls me a bad parent when he's the one driving his son around while he's drunk. Once I realized that Henry was semi-safe, the slight tunnel vision evaporated, and I noticed the pile of black garbage bags beside Will.

"What's with all the bags Will?" the rain pelted down harder, sending icy droplets to soak my clothes and sting at my skin.

"You wanted to move in with your friend, now I have an excuse to get your crap out of my house. Go, be the knight on a white horse for your poor darling Emily, and do me a favour, leave me out of it." His words stabbed at my heart, but he couldn't mean them right? He's just drunk.

"Will, please, you've been drinking, and we can talk about this later, when you're thinking clearly." My teeth chattered against the cold, and I stepped closer to him.

"No, enough of the later JJ, I'm tired of waiting for you. There's always something more important than me, and I'm tired of it." He swayed unsteadily as he headed back to the car. This was why I never broke up with him, I didn't want to face the feelings of being unloved, I didn't want to feel alone, and it felt good to have someone to come home to, even if he wasn't perfect.

"Will please! I-" he flung me by my arm into the car, my body eliciting a sharp thud as I slammed into the door.

"What were you going to say JJ? That you love me? Stop lying to me; I can't believe you have the gall to tell me that to my face. You don't love me; you don't put the people you love at the bottom of your list of priorities. There's always another psycho killer to stop, or a wounded friend to attend to. So I'm done being the last on your list. I'm taking my son home-"no, he wouldn't have Henry; he was drunk and sure as hell wasn't driving with my son in his car. I pushed Will away, ignoring the repulsive scent of alcohol on his breath, and tugged on the car door. Henry's eyes lit up when he saw me, and he jumped into my arms, making my next move so much easier.

"Mommy!" he cried happily, and I tried my best to cover him with my coat as Will hadn't bothered to bring his. With him clinging to my chest like a baby monkey, I walked away from the car door, and over to the wall of the apartment, grabbing the garbage bags the best I could. When Will realized his son was no longer in the car he lunged after me, growling and screaming like some mythical beast that hadn't been slain by the ancient heroes. I had just made it in the door when he came up behind me, being held back by the doorman

"Don't let him in." I told the doorman, who nodded that he understood.

"Mommy, where are we going?" Henry asked curiously.

"We're going to stay with Aunt Emily for a bit, okay?" I heaved the wet bags into the elevator and down the hall to her apartment. I opened the door, and the mayhem on the other side was something I had not expected at all. I could hear screaming and crashing coming from a far-off room in the apartment. Digging through the bags, I found a makeup case that had been filled with Henry's toy cars, along with his stuffed toy lion.

"Henry, can you play here nice and quiet for mommy?" I asked, greatly relieved when he nodded yes, before zooming the cars around on Emily's hardwood floor like it was a NASCAR stadium. I dashed off after the noise, finding it originating behind a door I had never even seen. I opened it to see the remnants of what used to be some sort of sitting room. There was shattered glass and china from antique plates that used to reside in a now-empty cabinet, picture frames were overturned and shattered, along with a mirror that looked like it had been flung across the room. And standing in the middle of it was Emily, screaming and crying like a madwoman. I knelt down in front of her, silently inspecting the glass cuts on her hands and shins.

"Why?" was all I said, it was all I could muster up when faced with my surroundings.

"I feel powerless! A walk across the room feels like a marathon! Burning food sends me into violent flashbacks! I want to cry all the time! I'm tired, tired of all this, it's too much!" she shrieked, and I seriously hoped Henry couldn't hear. In a weird way it made sense, Emily feels powerless and angry; she needed a way to feel like she wasn't powerless, to release her anger. But still, I vowed that I wouldn't leave this house again. I tried to calm her down while sitting in the eye of the hurricane of detritus, that momentary calm before the storm hit again with full force, knocking you back to where you stared and destroying all the progress you've made. A fitting atmosphere for Emily's condition. As soon as her anger dissipated, her remorse came, begging and sobbing that she was sorry, when she knew she was already forgiven. She was sitting on my lap, her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms around my neck, an oversized version of Henry just moments ago. I wanted to carry her, I did, to pick her up and put her to bed and tell her it would all be okay, but with Henry, and Will, and Strauss, I was juggling so much now, I could barely carry myself around, let alone Emily. But I did, I did because I loved her, and I couldn't bear to leave her. I finally calmed her down and brought her to the bathroom, picking glass out of her unflinching palms before putting her to bed. I walked out to deal with Henry, who came running as soon as he noticed the red stain of Emily's blood on my blouse, fittingly, right over my heart.

"Are you hurt mommy?" he asked, his innocent eyes worried beyond their years.

"No, Aunt Emily hurt herself, it was an accident. She's not feeling well, maybe you can see her tomorrow?" he nodded understandingly, before returning to his spot on the floor, when it hit me. I had no dry clothes for him, they were all at Will's, and I couldn't go back there. I rubbed my eyes out of exhaustion before picking up my cell phone.

"Morgan here."

"Derek it's JJ, I need you to do me a huge favour." I nearly begged. He listened to me rehash the night's events, throwing in the occasional expletive or word of sympathy at appropriate times.

"So what can I do for you Jayje?" he asked readily after my long story.

"I need you to go to Will's and get Henry's stuff, his clothes, some toys, everything you can carry. I'd go back there myself, but I can't, I can't face him, after all that happened today, I cant face Will, and I cant leave Emily-" I gasped, feeling myself hyperventilating as I spoke.

"No problem, just breathe Jennifer, you'll be fine. Do you need me to take the little man off your hands tonight?" he offered kindly.

"No, it's fine, I'll call Pen. She's been begging to spend time with her godson, and she's used to watching him. But thank you for the offer. And Derek?"

"Yes Jennifer?" he asked expectantly.

"If you call me Jennifer one more time that will be your third strike, and you know what happens on the third strike?" I threatened mischievously to try and calm myself down, slip back into a familiar routine.

"No thanks JJ, I don't wanna make the same mistake Phil in Internal Affairs did, bye!" I chuckled at the memory of sending the scrawny man running from my office, but in all fairness, I had given him a warning! I dialled Penelope's number next, and explained the situation, to which she promised to fly by and pick up "her little sugarplum." Derek dropped off the clothes right before Penelope came to get Henry, and they both gave me sympathetic gazes and murmured platitudes before leaving me alone, with the weight of the world still on my shoulders. I crawled into bed with Emily, not even caring I was still wearing the rain-soaked, blood-smeared clothes I had rushed to the office and back in. after checking that she was sleeping peacefully, and wouldn't hear, I curled up on my side, staring out the window at the lights of the city. In the quiet and safety of Emily's bed, with her slumbering safely beside me, I allowed myself to crumble, piece by piece, confident that I could put myself back together by the morning. I cried until my head hurt, until the red and white car lights blended into an amorphous glowing blob, until it didn't hurt anymore, until I was sure I could hold on and stay strong, for everyone else's sake.

**A/N holy cow that was long I guess I surmounted the writer's block faster than I expected! I wasn't sure if I wanted to split this up into two chapters or leave it as is, but as soon as I got writing I couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! JJ's cracking under the pressure, Emily's getting worse before she gets better, and Will's essentially out of the picture. He was JJ's crutch, and how will she fare now that she's standing all alone, with the weight of her responsibility for everyone around her upon her shoulders, is she strong enough?**

**-Nightshade**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N thanks for all the reviews, but one question which seemed to be quite predominant among them all is, why did JJ try to stop Will if she loves Emily? I had foreseen that some of you would pick up on that, and there are two answers to the question. The short (or lazy) answer is that it made for a better plotline than JJ just dumping him flat out, but I don't find that answer satisfying and I doubt you guys will either. The long answer is that, JJ's spent years with Will, he's been by her side for years of Christmases, anniversaries, and birthdays. He's been there for her after every tough case to comfort her. He was the one who gave her Henry and helped raise him. The way I see it, you don't just give that up all at once, they have so much of a history, they've been through so much, it's like giving up a piece of her past. And Emily, well she's hardly mentally stable right now, and she definitely isn't up for any type of a relationship, now or in the near future. So she's essentially a wild card for JJ, she's not sure how much of the real Emily will still be there after all this, or if the relationship sours if their friendship could remain, she's not even sure Emily knows what they're doing together. Emily's looking for stability and love, so she could throw herself into a relationship with JJ without really thinking it through. Basically JJ's a huge, trembling mass of doubt right now, and what she was doing with Will was her way of clinging to familiarity and comfort. And to quote a line by George O'Malley from Grey's Anatomy which popped in my head the moment I read the first question, "You don't have to love someone to want them." So, now that that's all finished (told you it would be a long answer) I'll get on with the story! And if any of that was unclear, just ask! The questions are another way of showing that you're in to the story!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds or any of its characters, if I did, I'd be happier than a dog in a house made of bacon! (Though I guess it wouldn't be happy if it ate it all and ended up homeless or with indigestion from eating that much bacon… anyway!)**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Twelve

The next day had come with an uneventful morning, Emily was making herself oddly scarce, and I'd received a call from an overjoyed three year-old telling me how his Aunt Penny had promised to take him to the zoo. Hotch had been by to drop off some files that my replacement was apparently "too inept" to sort through. After I had finished with the depressing task of reading through all the case files and sorting them by urgency, I hoped to clear my mind of serial killers and mangled victims by cleaning up the mess in Emily's office from last night. In the bright daylight it looked worse than it had the evening prior, as I struggled to figure out where to start. I decided that the safety hazard of the broken glass needed to be taken care of first, so I swept it all up into the dust pan, before moving on to the overturned furniture and broken picture frames. Each picture showed a smiling Emily, occasionally with a friend or two, in what looked like almost every major city in the world. She had such a past, there was so much about Emily Prentiss I didn't know, and I was dying to find out. Once I had finally finished cleaning, it was almost lunchtime, and I set about on a new task. Finding where Emily had disappeared to. A quick sweep of the house turned up empty, and I was seriously starting to worry now. She hadn't even been there when I was awake; I figured she just wanted some quiet, not to disappear! I could feel my heartbeat speeding up as I thought of all the worst case scenarios she could be in right now. Her apartment was completely empty, devoid of any sound or movement, let alone life. I sat down on the couch, urging myself to get my head together, if I freaked out, my chances of finding her were a long shot. Think. Logic. Reason. My list of things I should be doing was quickly becoming my list of things that are currently unattainable right now. You're a profiler, profile this! The place is clean, she didn't leave in a hurry, and nothing is missing, all her bags are accounted for. Her car keys in the bowl beside the door so if she left anywhere, she wasn't going too far. The door is closed, but not locked, which makes me think she wasn't in the clearest state of mind when she left. I sat down again, head in my hands, trying to push against the onslaught of new worry. Sergio jumped up on my lap, sitting there and staring at me expectantly with his bright yellow eyes. I wanted to get up and start looking for Emily, but suddenly he wouldn't budge, and I wasn't about to start fighting with Emily's cat.

"What is it kitty? Do you miss her too? You wouldn't happen to know where your Emily wandered off to do you?" I sighed, talking to fill the silent lull in the air. All I got in response was an indignant meow, as he snuggled deeper into my lap.

"Is that not good enough for you? c'mon, get off, I have to go start looking for her, I'll drive all around the city if I have to, but I need to find her and see that she's safe. I'm so scared right now, last time she was left alone she tore up her office as an attempt to feel less powerless, I can't bear to have her somewhere out there without me by her side. I love her." I murmured while scratching the elegant black feline behind his ears, not really caring that I was talking to a cat, I just needed someone to talk to. With that he got off obviously appeased by my admission, crouching beside me and nudging my thigh with his nose almost like he was telling me to go. I shook my head, telling myself that it was just the worry, but that cat is definitely smarter than he looks. I leapt into the car, throwing it into drive while dialling Penelope's number, hoping that the "All-Seeing Oracle of Quantico" would be able to assist.

"Office of Unfettered Omniscience, what answers do you desire my little ray of sunshine?" Garcia answered he phone in her usual fashion, but with all the panic beginning to recollect in my mind, I didn't have the ability to enjoy it.

"Garcia, I need you to give me the approximate location of a cell phone." Hopefully Emily had her phone on her, without it I was almost utterly hopeless.

"The rest of our crime-fighting compatriots are here in the office, have you gone rogue?" she asked mischievously, and I could almost picture the glint in her eye.

"Garcia! Focus, I need you to give me an approximate location on Emily's cell phone!" I snapped, hoping she would take me seriously. There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and when she spoke again her voice was nervous and tentative, as if voicing her thoughts would make everything worse.

"Please tell me she just misplaced her phone. That she's feeling better and you two went out somewhere and by the time she got home she realized it was gone. She can't be, she isn't-"

"Penelope, she's disappeared." I stated, unable to say any more as the impending tears blurred my view of the street in front of me. I heard the maniacal tapping of her fingers against the keyboard, like the sound of a distant stampede.

"She's at Carrol Street and 2nd Avenue, at Woodthrush Park. Go bring her home JJ!" she signed off. The intersection was less than five minutes away, and as soon as I pulled into the parking lot I saw her, sitting on a bench at the far side of the park. I jumped out of the car and sprinted to where she sat.

"Emily!" I called, but her eyes were glazed over. She seemed so pale and lifeless, like a ghost. She didn't move or blink when I touched her shoulder, so I guided her limp form back to the car. She didn't make any attempts to talk until we were inside, when tears began welling in her eyes.

"What's wrong Em? Please tell me, don't shut me out." I had thought my plea had fallen on deaf ears, when she spoke up, in a detached robotic voice that matched her lifeless demeanour.

"I heard you, last night I heard you crying." She admitted, and I froze, almost ashamed to be called out on my moment of weakness. Guilt welled up in my soul, and I knew she must have been feeling the same.

"So you ran off?" I asked calmly, dealing with her withdrawn personality as patiently as possible. I had been doing some reading on posttraumatic stress and I was certain that getting overly emotional, whether it was anger or disappointment, would back her into a corner and make her regress even more.

"I didn't want to be a burden to you; I just wanted to disappear for a bit." She finally looked up, before reaching over and touching my cheek. "See, I'm around you for less than a minute and you're already crying." I raised my hand to my cheek; I hadn't even felt the tears fall. I guess anything seemed insignificant compared to last night's meltdown.

"I'm not sad Em, I'm relieved. You had me so worried." I sighed, trying to express my relief.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, and I wasn't quite sure why she felt the need to. We pulled into her parking lot, and were back in her apartment in no time. I sat her down on the couch, knowing that we needed to talk. Sergio padded over, acting as a moderator, or just making sure I didn't hurt his mommy.

"Why are you sorry Em?" I gently angled her face towards mine, forcing her to look me in the eyes, instead of at the floor like an ashamed schoolgirl.

"Because I made you worry, because I ruined your life. You were happy with Will and Henry before this." She sniffled. She really did not know how far from the truth she was.

"Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! You have not ruined my life!" I exclaimed in shock, and I could tell by the remorseful look on her face that she didn't believe it. She had to know, everything I never told her in the months before now, she needs to know. "You gave me a new life! I wasn't happy with Will! Ever since he quit his job in New Orleans, and couldn't get re-hired here, he's been drinking, a lot. If he could drain our bank account the way he does a bottle of bourbon then I'd be living on the streets! Then he screams and yells and basically treats me like crap, until he sobers up the next afternoon, which is when he starts drinking again. Me cleaning up after him, and then him cursing at me for cleaning up has been the full extent of our relationship for months. And Henry? I should have taken him out of that poisonous household as soon as the drinking started, but I didn't because the thought of leaving Will made me feel all pathetic and lonely and scared! And I don't want to be pathetic and lonely and scared! But you, you have nothing to do with my life being ruined. And because of what happened to you, I can't even admit to my problems because it makes me feel weak, because you survived a frickin' bombing!" I ranted, tears and words spilling out in an incomprehensible waterfall of emotions. I immediately felt guilty, Emily has worse problems to deal about than whatever I'm going through, and it's unfair to unload on her like this. I was about to apologize when strong arms wrapped me in a vise-grip hug. This only made me feel worse; I was supposed to be the one comforting her, not the other way around. I twisted in her grip, feeling sorrier, if that was even possible considering how low I felt, as soon as the comforting embrace disappeared.

"What was that for Jennifer?" Emily asked, obviously hurt. I couldn't get my brain to form coherent sentences, as it simply became overloaded by all the emotions running rampant in my head. She got up to walk away, and I grabbed desperately for her hand, I couldn't have her leave me. She whirled around, confusion and hurt in her chocolate eyes. "I know I suffered, everyone knows that, but that's no excuse for you to hide away and try to protect me from everything. If we really are in a relationship, I'm here for you as well, so just let me be here for you." her words were like a punch to the gut, and I could barely breathe now. I could tell she was torn between storming away and staying.

"I'm sorry Em." I gasped out between breaths, and to my immense relief she walked back towards me. She hugged me again, and this time I snuggled deeper into her embrace, my ragged breaths muffled by the elegant curve of her neck, and my tears became drops of diamond that twinkled from her ebony hair. I leaned back slowly, sniffling away the tears and forcing them away. Emily had on her compartmentalization face, and I could tell she was trying her hardest to be strong for me. She was trying her very best not to fall victim to her own trauma. I took her hand softly, an unspoken gesture of "it's alright." None of us should have to do this, but life isn't fair.

**A/N Okie-Dokie! Just a quick note before I hit the sack (it's 1:30 AM here and I'm pretty tired) the address I mentioned is a real place, though it's nowhere near Quantico Virginia. It's an intersection in a town called Nut Mountain in Saskatchewan, Canada. It has no relevance to the story and I don't live there, I just found the name of the city kinda unusual (no offense to the residents of Nut Mountain) the park however, exists only in my imagination. I'm kinda disappointed with the fact that I haven't been able to play up Emily's condition the way I'd like to, I was hoping to fit in a little depression (I have a thing for angst), but eh, Rome wasn't built in a day, neither is this story. Another side note, I gave Emily her mom's name as a middle name, because the character apparently doesn't have a middle name, none of the CM characters do! Goodnight and happy reading!**

**-Nightshade**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N hello again! I'm back with another update. To answer a question posed to me in a review about why JJ didn't just call Emily, and instead had to notify Garcia, umm… in short, it was a bit of a technical oversight on my part. Number one, I have no knowledge whatsoever when it comes to hacking, or tracking someone's cell phone, (besides what's shown on Criminal Minds) so I'm no expert in that area, plus I enjoy the dynamics of including other characters, and I try to include other members of the team if at all possible. Plus, I guess in JJ's mindset, she's freaking out, panicking, people make oversights while they're panicking, and so both she and I made an oversight on that one. And as to Penelope just getting more worried, well she's the All-Knowing Goddess of Technology! She'll find out Emily's alright one way or the other (or she'll just call back in the time lag between last chapter and this one). And yes, JJ will let Emily know Henry's living there eventually (though I'll probably have Garcia and the others babysitting for the time being, JJ doesn't need the extra person to care for, I'd love to have Reid babysit, see what comes of that! =D ) Where reviews are concerned, keep 'em coming please! Okay, now back to the story!**

**-Nightshade**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Thirteen (triskaidekaphobics beware!)

Hotch had called me in on another emergency, apparently my replacement has been causing havoc around the office with his inexperience. This time, instead of leaving Emily at home, which didn't work out so well last time, I was bringing her with me. I figured that getting her out of the house was a good thing, and seeing all her friends and her workspace would hopefully cheer her up. She couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to be back, and I couldn't stop clarifying that she wasn't back yet, she's visiting. She almost seemed happy as she got ready, and I hoped that this was going to help her recover from her trauma. She was literally buzzing with excitement as we entered the bullpen area, surveying her old workspace. Hotch greeted us at the door, giving Emily a suspicious look before turning to me.

"JJ, can you come with me to your office, there's some things I'd like to discuss with you on the recent cases." I gave Emily an unsure glance, and without me even having to say anything, she knew.

"I'll be over there with Morgan and Reid, I'll be fine." She gestured to where our friends sat clustered around Reid's desk, probably doing his science magic tricks again. I followed Hotch to my office where he promptly closed the door and the blinds.

"Emily's not supposed to be back at work yet." He stated authoritatively.

"I know sir, I just hoped that bringing her in here would lift her spirits a bit, make her feel better." He gave me a brief nod to show he was satisfied with my answer before handing me a pile of files. He outlined the simple job that my replacement had apparently screwed up, before leaving me to my own devices. Four hours had passed, and I was seriously considering beating myself in the head with my paperweight to try and numb some of the pain of thinking. I loved the job, but being called in for the silliest of tasks when I wasn't used to all the work, wasn't fun at all. Of course, after undoing the mess of files and calling six police officers in different states to apologize for the holdup, I had to teach the replacement, a twitchy young man, exactly what he had done wrong and how not to do it again. I walked out of the office nursing a headache and desperate for some coffee. At least Emily seemed to be enjoying herself as her laughter echoed through the open corridors of the BAU. After two Advil I went over to meet her, where Morgan was telling some story in which Spence was reciting facts until an unsub begged to be arrested. I was pretty sure he exaggerated most of it, but it made Emily happy, that's what matters. I was just about to tell her we could go, when it happened. In an ordinary day, no one there would have paid any attention to it. A file slipped off a nearby desk, sending the contents flying across the floor. Photos, graphic photos of a recent case, victims burned alive, were strewn around the place in all their full-color glory. No one took much notice, and I wouldn't notice either if it wasn't for the hand that had gripped my arm so tightly I thought it could break bones. Emily's eyes were glazed over, and she was as stiff as a wooden plank. She was trembling, and I could tell it was taking every bit of resolve in her body not to drop to the floor and shield her head from her flashbacks. Morgan and Spence had taken notice, and I could tell other people in the bullpen were slowing down and taking notice. The last thing I wanted Emily to be was a human traffic accident with everyone stopping to look at the wreckage. As discreetly as possible, I guided her to the nearest supply closet, trying to stop people from noticing the tears welling up in her eyes. As soon as I shut the door her legs gave out, collapsing into a heap of panic and shame. She had been trying so hard to keep her resolve, and a part of me was proud of her for that small step forward in progress. I stroked her hair and comforted her, like I had done many times before.

"I'm proud of you Em." I whispered in her ear, to which she suddenly sat up.

"Proud? Why on earth would you be proud of me? I'm on my knees in a laundry closet because of a couple pictures!" she hissed irritably, and I hoped she'd keep it down for her own sake.

"You held it together out there, it's a step forward." She wiped at her eyes furiously, trying to clean herself up.

"Is that all I'm in for? That someday I'll be able to look at a picture of a dead kid and not break down? That I'll be able to walk with the aid of only one crutch? That I'll be able to sleep through about half the nights without nightmares? That I'll stop panicking at the smell of burnt toast? If that's all I can look forward to in my life, then why is it even worth living?" she yelled, before bolting out the door, leaving me curled up on the floor among the mops and buckets used by the custodial staff. My mind was still stuck on her last question. She didn't just say that, she couldn't actually mean it. She isn't actually wishing that she died is she? The mere thought of Emily dead was causing me to hyperventilate, and black spots swam in my vision teasingly, so much so that I could barely tell whom it was that had just entered the cleaning closet.

"Spence?" I gasped out, and he sat down beside me. "What, aren't you supposed to give me a paper bag or something?" I rasped.

"Actually, paper bag rebreathing is not advised for people who are hyperventilating. When someone's hyperventilating their blood chemistry changes towards alkalosis. In alkalosis, haemoglobin in the blood binds more securely to oxygen, so they become relatively hypoxic. Restricting the oxygen being breathed in worsens the hypoxia and can be detrimental to the person." By the time Spence had stopped his little rant, I had calmed down enough, a fact he seemed to notice as indicated by the embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

"Thanks Spence." I ruffled his shaggy hair affectionately.

"So why are you sitting in the closet instead of going after Emily?" he asked curiously. I wasn't quite sure what to say to him; frankly I didn't know the answer myself.

"I dunno Spence, I'm just shocked." he didn't speak for a while, possibly lost for words himself.

"Well Morgan went after her, I don't know if he caught up to her though, you should go after her JJ." He urged, giving me that adorable stare with his big hazel-brown eyes.

"I can't, I can't be near her now, because if I am, I'll yell, and I don't want to yell at her, because that wouldn't be helpful to her." I admitted, burying my face in my hands.

"Is this because she said she thinks she's better off dead?" he asked, and I looked up in shock and he continued without my needing to speak. "Most of the bullpen heard, she yells really loud." I sighed more out of feeling sorry for Emily having her personal life broadcast to the entire floor.

"I can't face her after she said something like that. She has so much to live for! And she doesn't realize it!" I exclaimed, reminding myself after the fact that most of the FBI was probably still listening in.

"She's been through an incredible trauma, she's lucky to survive, and she'll realize it soon. You just have to convince her." He reassured, before helping me up off the floor.

"Thanks Spence." I hugged him quickly before dashing from the supply closet, hoping that by the time I had caught up with Emily, I wasn't too late.

**A/N OMG that chapter was tough to write. Writer's block is an evil, evil thing. But bear with me, the perfectionist in me keeps telling me how poorly I'm writing, but the reviews tell me otherwise and thank you for them! But I hope I've pushed through the rough patch, and I'll be back tomorrow with another chapter! And as a side note, I'll briefly decode Spencer's rant. (Which I essentially paraphrased from Wikipedia.) Alkalosis is when your blood becomes more alkaline, hypoxia is a lack of oxygen, and haemoglobin is the protein in your blood that the oxygen sticks to, so it can be carried through the body. Goodnight!**

**-Nightshade**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N firstly, I'm terribly sorry for the slight disappearance, but we're doing some minor renovations here, so things are a little crazy. But I hope the small break proves to be beneficial, I'm refreshed and bursting with ideas! The CM marathon I had helped a bit though, with special emphasis on the ones with JJ/Emily scenes! On with the story now!**

**-Nightshade**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Fourteen

I had driven back to Emily's apartment as quickly as possible, narrowly missing a few collisions with other cars, pedestrians, and a very fortunate squirrel. All the way up to her door I was begging, pleading with any deity who cared to listen, that Emily was alright. My worst fears were proven as I threw the door open to her apartment to find it chillingly empty. A renegade sob escaped my throat as my searches became more frenzied.

"Emily, Emily where are you?" I shrieked, my voice grating against my raw throat like sandpaper. At the sound of my yelling Sergio came out from hiding. He gave me a disdainful look, as if I had let him down, before walking to the door. I ran back out, seeing the black cat scratching at an unmarked door. Not really having the time to question the intelligence of the feline, I threw the door open and the view on the other side sent my heart plummeting like a doomed plane. Stairs, to the rooftop. No this couldn't be happening, she isn't going to jump, she's strong! Emily's logical she wouldn't kill herself! I was taking the stairs three at a time, and nearly blind from tears. My hand slipped off the rail as my foot slipped on the edge of the step, sending me pitching forward and smacking my forehead into the stair edge. Ignoring the stab of pain from my head, I continued on, wiping the tears from my eyes so I could see. I nearly slammed straight into the door to the roof in my urgency, and I threw it open, gasping and heaving while scanning the desolate space. Night had fallen, along with it, an eerie sense of calm. The stars glistened despite the bright city lights shining from below, as if taunting them with their superiority. Chimneys pumped steam and smoke from the belly of the building, giving the empty space an ethereal look. Through the clouds I saw a figure, silhouetted against the foggy city lights, slouched at the edge of the roof. I ran for it blindly, crying her name desperately.

"Emily!" my knees protested mildly as I fell upon them in front of her, cradling her cheeks in my hands. I was crying again now, out of pure jubilation instead. I couldn't believe that she was alive, I couldn't believe that the skin beneath my hands was soft and warm instead of cold and pale. She still didn't meet my gaze, instead staring out at the city lights, streetlights creating oases of golden light in the black desert, cars darting about like frenzied ants who threw white and red beams of light around like strobe lights, and the ghostly glow of neon store signs were colorful beacons, attracting people to their doors.

"I was going to do it, I was so close. But I couldn't." she stammered, before turning her eyes skyward, highlighting the crystalline tears upon her alabaster cheeks. The stars above twinkled their reply, painting her ebony hair with strokes of pure moonlight.

"You can't die, you can't want to die. I know you think you have nothing to live for, I know you feel hopeless, but you can't give up. Now you can scream at me, yell at me, curse, run away, shut me out, throw whatever you can at me, but you don't get to die on me! You don't get to give up because you're Emily Prentiss and you're strong and brave and you have everything to live for. And I know it may not feel like it but you have so much to live for." She fixed me with a defeated look, everything from the dullness in her eyes to her slumped posture. She may as well have been waving a white flag, she was giving up.

"What? I'm broken, what do I possibly have to live for?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she leaned closer to the ledge. My heartbeat sped up instantly as I dove to stop her movement.

"You have ME!" I screamed desperately, clutching to her hand as if it was the only thing keeping me sane. "You have me! I love you Emily, so please live for me! Please, please Emily please live for me!" I was begging now, literally on my knees in front of her begging her to live. Tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks, but I didn't notice, it's like I couldn't notice anything else in the world besides her. She was still staring at me, her eyes so filled with indecision. If she gave up on me, if she jumped, I wouldn't know how to go on, she's all I could see, she's all that I can see. Ever since I had yelled she seemed to exist in some sort of limbo, where time didn't pass. She let out a hitched breath, almost like a hiccup, before she slid off the ledge, crumpling to the gravel roof and curling into a ball. I was beside her in seconds, rubbing her back softly and whispering fervently in her ear.

"Thank you, thank you Emily." I was sobbing into her hair, unable to describe how relieved I felt. She wasn't in danger anymore, that's all that occurred to me in that instant.

"You… you l-love me?" she stuttered between sobs. She sounded confused though, as if she didn't believe me.

"Yes, yes Emily yes I love you! I love you, which is why you have to fight! I love you Em!" I didn't get her trepidation; I had to make her believe me.

"How can you love me? I exhaust you, I have nightmares, I have flashbacks, I can barely walk, I don't even know if I can go back to work! I mean look at me, look at me!" she shrieked desperately at me, yanking upwards on the cuff of her sweatpant to gesture to her slowly healing leg. It didn't look as bad as before, the swelling had gone down and the mesh pattern had faded, it was still scarred oddly, though that would never change. As soon as she let the pant leg go she was gesturing to other scars, the pink, puckered surgical scar on her abdomen, gashes from shrapnel, pointing at every nick and blemish upon her visible skin. It made me feel sick almost, her pointing out every reason that she thought I shouldn't love her. I was still on my knees as I moved in between her legs, stroking her face lovingly, trying to commit every crease and scar and slope of her delicate cheekbones to memory. I put my hands on the hem of her pant legs, rubbing up and down her calves, feeling the baby-soft, rippled skin of her burns dancing beneath my fingers like water. I closed my eyes, before finally placing one of my hands over her heart, feeling it's supernatural throbbing beneath my palm. My eyes were still closed, I didn't need to see her to know what she looked like, to know how gorgeous she was.

"I love you. You, Emily. The scars are a part of you. And no matter what you look like, I will still love you. No matter what you think or feel, you're still you, despite all that you went through, you're still you." the gravel bit my knees as I leaned in, sweeping away a delicate strand of her hair from her face. I gently brushed my lips across hers, simply wanting to show her how much I loved her. I wanted to make sure that she knew how beautiful she was, conveying that in every kiss and tender touch. The electric buzz of her lips against mine was a high I could never give up, I was addicted to her. I could feel her heartbeat vibrating into mine, reminding me with every thud that she was alive, fueling my happiness and my utter need for her, more of Emily. She pulled away breathlessly her once-dull eyes flickering with a small spark of her former self.

"You love me." She announced, sounding astonished now. "and… I love you." she almost whispered. A delicate smile spread across her face, like a reluctant flower blooming. I couldn't help feeling that she was finally on her way into the light.

**A/N once again, I'm sorry for the mini-hiatus there, but I'm back now, and feeling inspired again! I do enjoy your feedback, and thanks to everyone who's already reviewed!**

**-Nightshade**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N sorry again about the absence, but the odds seem stacked against me here! The renovating of the house means all hands on deck, moving furniture and packing boxes, which severely cuts down on writing time. Plus I've been slightly under the weather recently, and am currently writing this chapter under a splitting headache. And the icing on the crap-cake is that we're gonna have to unhook the computer, so I'll be seriously inconvenienced anyway! So I apologize ahead of time for spotty updates, but I assure you that I'm doing my very best! Also, in about a week's time we're going on vacation, to a cabin, where the only internet hotspot is a random site in the woods (while everyone else is relaxing or hiking or swimming, I'll be the weirdo sitting in the middle of the forest with a laptop whirring away!) I had hoped to finish the story before then, but I'm not so sure how likely that is now. But, since I'm an eternal optimist and I must look on the bright side, the down-time gives me plenty of time to not only mentally plan out this story (and improve the writing quality) , but brainstorm ideas for others! So enough about me, on to chapter fifteen!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal minds, if I did, then I wouldn't need to write a disclaimer at all.**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Fifteen

After that night on the roof, Emily seemed to have been imbued with a new fire. I could see it glistening, lighting up her warm brown eyes from within like liquid starlight. Currently I could hear the delicious sound of her laughter playing over the air as she played hide-and-seek with Henry. He had finally officially moved into the apartment, and despite his rambunctious nature he was gentle and cautious of Emily's injuries, to which I was eternally thankful for. My cell phone buzzed at the arrival of a text message, and I scrolled through it quickly. Hotch wants to talk to me about Emily. I absentmindedly wondered if she would be able to return to her old job, with all the running and tackling unsubs, and gun-wielding involved, but I figured I'd leave the professional opinion to the myriad of doctors, therapists, and trainers who would need to sign off on her condition. I walked into the main room, where Emily was comically searching for the giggling toddler who was curled up underneath the coffee table. I missed this, that lightness in her posture, the smile on her face. She looked out from behind a curtain as I entered the room, and she tossed me a playful glance.

"JJ, I can't seem to find Henry! I've looked just about everywhere and I think I may have to give up! I didn't know I was playing with a hide-and-seek champion here!" she exclaimed happily, her smile widening infinitely at the chorus of mischievous giggles from the table. Henry popped out of hiding, his shaggy blond hair mussed in the cutest way possible.

"Here I am Auntie Em! I winned again!" he scrambled over and gave her a hug around her good leg, before glancing at me. "Mommy, I winned free times!" he held up three pudgy fingers proudly, before darting into my arms.

"Wow! That's awesome Henry! Now mommy has to go into work for a little bit, but I'll be right back as fast as I can, and in the meantime, maybe you can show Aunt Em all of your toy cars?" Emily's interest was piqued at the mention of work. My son leapt out of my arms and made a beeline to his room for his collection of cars. I seized the moment alone with Emily, immediately scooting over to her side and tucking my arm around her waist.

"So are we just going to keep sneaking around behind your son's back until he goes off to university?" she teased light-heartedly while settling into the physical contact.

"Nah, only until I figure out how to explain to him that his mom is dating his aunt without confusing him too much." I snuck in a quick kiss on her cheek as I smirked happily.

"Hmm… eventually I'm gonna have to start taking you on dates! At least I won't have too much trouble picking out clothes; I guess with this leg I'll be the one who wears the pants in this relationship." She gave a soft chuckle before gesturing to her wounded leg. She was still insecure about it, and probably would be for a while, but I was determined to help her through that small hurdle too.

"Duh! With those legs exposed in a skirt, I doubt I'd be able to resist you long enough to call it an official date!" I purred, giving her one of my mega-watt smiles along with a seductive wink. She smiled incredulously, and I swore I saw a slight tear of happiness glinting among the sea of cocoa that are her eyes. She gave me a fleeting kiss of gratitude, one that landed upon my lips with the softness and spirit of a butterfly.

"So when am I going back to work?" she perked up at the idea of working again, and I swore I'd never seen someone so excited by the prospect of chasing serial killers.

"That's what I have to talk to Hotch about. Of course that all hinges on me still having a job there as well." Before she could even open her mouth to answer my question I continued. "I may have yelled at Strauss when she refused to let me stay with you." I admitted sheepishly. Even though I wasn't looking at her, I could feel her smile.

"Well, if Hotch and Rossi can do anything about it, then they've put Strauss in her place as well, you'll be fine." She reassured, placing another chaste goodbye kiss upon my lips. I called goodbye to Henry before walking out the door, smiling at how domestic and natural it all felt. A life with Emily and my son. Everything I wanted was in reach, and Emily was improving by leaps and bounds. Of course there were still the occasional flashbacks where she'd freeze up momentarily due to a sound or a smell, and the nightmares still haunted her sleep, waking her up in the middle of the night crying for her mother, or that little girl, or sometimes simply just crying. But we dealt with it, and she healed faster than I had thought. It was as if that inner strength she'd always had was suddenly sick of being squashed down, and fought back in all its force, driving her out of the darkness. I pulled into my usual parking space at the BAU before heading to the bullpen area, which was oddly calm. Spence was sitting in his chair reading a thick book with a title that I couldn't pronounce and Morgan was zoned out to his music, or maybe even asleep. There was no sign of Penelope; she was probably hidden away in her lair playing one of those multiplayer internet games she was enamoured with. I walked over to Hotch's office; passing by Rossi's to see him buried in a file while nursing a cup of coffee. Hotch was up to a similar nothing, and invited me into his office silently.

"It's quiet here today." I felt the need to point out the obvious.

"Keep your voice down, I don't want to jinx it." He shushed, with a rare hint of humour to his voice. The vacant seat across from his desk was beckoning, and I sat down, waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.

"So, how's Emily been recently?" he asked professionally, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond. Do I tell him about her near-suicide?

"Well… there was a bit of a rough patch there, but she's bounced back quickly and she's excited to get back to work." You could see him making a mental note of that, before his face softened slightly.

"Do you think that she's ready?"

"I hope so, but she's healing, and this is just another obstacle she'll have to surmount. She'll have to adjust to the leg injury of course, the burns damaged some of the nerves and it's a bit stiff and awkward feeling at some points so she won't be kicking down any doors too soon-" Hotch cut me off gently.

"I mean psychologically." He clarified.

"Only time and experience will tell if she's ready on that front sir." I wasn't quite sure how she would adjust. We look at pictures of dead people all the time, which could trigger flashbacks. The sound of a gunshot was very similar to the sound of an explosion. Any part of this job could trigger her, and I truly couldn't predict how she'd react. Hotch got up, aligning the files on his desk before striding to the door.

"in that case let her know that she has a psychiatric evaluation next Tuesday, firearms requalification on the Thursday, before all that I need a form from her doctor that says she's physically fit for the job, and that we can't wait to have her back." I gave him a grateful glance before I was showed out of his office. The bullpen was as quiet as it was when I entered except for the constant flipping of book pages and the repetitive sound of Morgan snoring, and I slipped out unnoticed. I was anxious to get back to Emily's apartment, which was now simply considered home, to tell her the good news.

**A/N there you have it! Emily's not magically healed, but she's doing exponentially better! It's nice to write some happier stuff once and a while! Happy reading!**

**-Nightshade**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N I was so close to updating yesterday, I literally had the computer booted up and I was just about to start writing… but reality, like it tends to do, it got in the way. So I figured since I was woken up early by the arrival of our contractor (I had almost forgotten that 7AM existed!), I would take advantage of the time and write now! I apologize if this is a bit rough, but I literally got four hours of sleep, and I'm all jittery on caffeine now! But the newfound happiness in the story has been spurring me on inspiration-wise, so the writing feels a lot more natural and easy now, which means I have all the more reason to update as regularly as possible!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds! (sadly)**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Sixteen

Emily had brightened up from the moment I had told her that she was going back to work. I had teased her on how I had never seen someone so hyped up about getting to flip through files about serial killers, but the improvement in her mood lifted mine as well. Getting her to go to sleep the night before her firearms requalification was like getting Henry to sleep on Christmas Eve. Of course her staying asleep was another story altogether. It felt as if I had barely slipped beneath the waters of sleep before I was yanked back out by the subtle whimper emanated by the slumbering woman beside me. Ever since her incident I had become more conditioned to the subtleties about her, the slightest stiffness that meant she was encountering a difficult memory, the crease between her eyebrows when she was pushing something away, the slightest groan or whimper that meant she was having a nightmare. I pushed away the darkening fog that clouded my mind after the long day and focused on the restless woman beside me. The dim lights of the city painted her face in shades of grey, accentuating the creases on her forehead as she cringed away from whatever images her subconscious had conjured up. Just the sight of it sent a stab of pain to my heart, and like I always did, I forgot that this wasn't the first time I had found her like this, I forgot that this had become a routine, and that she would be okay, I simply had to stop it, to shield her from all the evils I could. I gently brushed my hand over her smooth cheek, wincing as I felt the muscles taut beneath as she clenched her jaw. I smoothed out the worried creases that marred her pretty face, and I tried to mentally prepare myself for the moment that when she opened her eyes, and they would be filled with fear and agony and they would be lost and scared and filled with tears and desperation and everything that I dreaded her to feel. She was still asleep when tears began to tease their way out from beneath her pale lids. Without warning her eyes shot open and she was frozen in time for a second, her mouth hanging open in confusion and shock. She crumpled almost instantaneously, curling into my chest and sobbing loudly, like she had done most nights. My arms went around her instinctively and protectively, letting her just get it out. In a few seconds or so she composed herself, not wanting too seem too vulnerable. She took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes, fixating on my very soul with her soulful dark depths.

"It was you, you were there with me in Syria, and the bomb went off, and I couldn't find you, I looked everywhere and I was losing consciousness, I could feel it and I couldn't find you before…" she recounted, and I tried not to cry myself at the emotion in her voice. I was stroking her hair and shushing her soothingly like usual.

"Shh, I'm fine, I'm alive and you're alive. It's all over." I reassured, trying to ignore the passage of time. The weak grey light of the young dawn was broaching the horizon, washing out any color in the room, cleansing it. She seemed pacified by that response, simply snuggling back into me like I was an oversized teddy bear. Her small meltdown was put past us as I allowed her to use me as a human pillow, her head rested upon my arm and her arms tight around my waist. The earlier tension in her face had evaporated, leaving her calm and relaxed. I allowed myself to melt away back into sleep. The next time I was awakened was by the screeching of the alarm clock as it announced that it was time to go back to work. The morning was a blur, Em and I grabbing badges and clothing and coffee, rushing to drop Henry off at daycare. It had been weeks since the last time we had both entered the FBI building with work in mind, and Emily was squirming like a kid about to go on stage for the talent show. She was obviously nervous, and it had taken a lot of arguing with the firearms trainer to get him to allow me to be in the shooting range alongside her. There was something comforting about the familiarity of Emily with her long ebony hair tucked away in a ponytail, poised like a panther behind her weapon. The trainer carelessly plopped the Glock 19 in her hands, not bothering to notice how she was strung as taut as a bowstring. He sat back and expected her to start, and she just stood there, quivering. She couldn't pull the trigger, worried as to what her response to the deafening noise would be. I got up; ignoring the odd look the trainer gave me, and stood behind her. I rested my chin on her shoulder, so close that my cheek brushed hers, and wrapped my arms around hers so I was holding onto the gun as well. I ignored the rush of heat southwards in my body, and my mouth went dry at the close contact to Emily, every part of my body that came into contact with hers was on fire. I tried to focus on other things, the dark, musty atmosphere of the shooting range, the irritating noise of the trainer lazily sipping a soda, the trembling of my girlfriend beneath me, anything to push away the tingling arousal. I had to be there for her, right now she wasn't my incredibly beautiful girlfriend, she was scared and in need of reassurance.

"Shh, you know what to do, you'll be fine. You're strong, and no matter how this turns out, I still love you." I soothed. She was really scared that she wouldn't be able to return to her old life, her old job. She gave me a stiff nod, and I held the gun in her hands steady, giving her a soft kiss of encouragement on the back of her jaw. There was a second of silence, before the roaring boom of the bullet ripping to life in the chamber and rocketing across the clearing. Em went stiff in my arms for a second, but then eventually relaxed and stared straight ahead at the bullet hole straight in the middle of the paper target. I received a warm and reassured smile from her, and I slowly backed off, watching her fire perfect scores into the rest of her targets. The trainer looked up from his clipboard and waved me off, indicating that he wanted to talk to Emily. I waited outside the shooting range in nervous anticipation, knowing how disappointed she would be if she didn't pass her firearms requalification. After five minutes or so, she burst out of the door and flung herself at me into an ecstatic hug, squealing with joy.

"I take it you passed?" I joked as she spun me around happily.

"With flying colors!" she chirped, finally putting me back down on my two feet "thank you JJ, without you I couldn't have done any of this, thank you! I love you JJ!" she exclaimed, before throwing me up against the nearest wall and claiming my lips with hers. Her excitement and happiness made this kiss unlike the others, this was frenzied and desperate and hungry. The force with which she had pushed me against the caused me to nearly stumble before she pulled me back against her plush pink lips again. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth, engaging mine in a sweet duel for dominance. Between that and the fingers knotted in my hair, the warm hand that had found purchase on my thigh, and the occasional gentle-yet almost feral nip on my sensitive lips, I was overloaded on physical sensation. Just as Emily teased loose an ecstatic moan from the back of my throat, did I barely register footsteps in the hall. I brushed it off; too involved in the sensations Emily was stirring up. But then I heard the voice, and it stole all the heat from my blood, turning it to ice.

"Agent Jareau, Agent Prentiss, my office, now." She demanded, and I didn't even have to look over to know who it was, Strauss. We were so busted.

**A/N uh-oh, Emily and JJ getting frisky in the hallways of the FBI, and now they have Strauss and her fraternization rules endangering their jobs! **

**-Nightshade**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N I've been trying to post as many chapters as possible before I head off on vacation tomorrow, which will leave me essentially on hiatus for a week. I'm looking forward to the break, but I'll miss being able to write! I will be updating as soon as humanly possible though, I can promise that much! Now enjoy this next chapter, I'm hoping I can post another before the day is through!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds, if I did then I'd sit for hours and listen to Reid ramble on about science just to indulge my nerdy side!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Seventeen

Here I was again, like a student sitting in the principal's office, my head hung in embarrassment at being caught making out with a classmate behind the school building. I was grateful that my long blonde hair fell like a curtain around my face, hiding some of my blush as I waited outside of Strauss' office alongside Emily. She sat beside me wearing a similar expression, wringing her hands nervously. I placed my hand on top of hers, trying to calm her while at the same time trying to listen into the argument ensuing in the office behind me. Hotch and Strauss were going at it, and our team leader was apparently using every argument he possibly could to try and keep us on the team.

"Strauss sounds too calm for Hotch to be winning." Emily observed, slipping into her profiler mode. We both listened intently, making out words such as "protocol" "rules" and "vital to the team" being thrown across the room at each other. We just sat in silence for a few more minutes as the rest of the team filed into the bullpen, immediately taking notice of the tense atmosphere. Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and Penelope slowly filed over to where we sat.

"Jayje, Emily, what's wrong?" Pen asked, her eyebrows shooting skywards in worry as she trotted to where we sat. It was then when I realized I had never told her Emily and I are a couple, she would feel so hurt that she never found out, especially since Morgan and Hotch were the only ones who even know. I cleared my throat anxiously as Emily squeezed my hand softly.

"Emily and I, we're…" I trailed off, coughing around a nervous tickle in my throat.

"Jennifer and I are together. Strauss um, kind of walked in on us kissing after I passed my firearms requalification." She admitted, the most adorable lopsided grin on her face. The reactions from the group were varied yet positive, from an excited squeal from Penelope, a warm fatherly smile from Rossi, a confused yet shy grin from Spence, and a mischievous look from Morgan, who let out a quiet wolf-whistle at our little predicament.

"So wait, Strauss is trying to fire you two for breaking the fraternization rules?" Morgan responded after a couple seconds, anger at the realization settling in. I nodded my assent.

"If she gets anywhere near my two lesbian lovelies then I will hack her into oblivion!" Penelope threatened, and a happy blush spread across my cheeks at her immediate acceptance.

"Pen, I appreciate the thought, but I hope we can resolve this without messing with the BAU Section Chief's credit cards or social security." I advised, knowing that when it came to the All-Powerful Penelope Garcia, Analyst Extraordinaire, she was serious when she said that she could hack her into oblivion. Emily seconded my opinion with a beaming smile. Without warning, the door opened, showing a disgruntled Strauss.

"Agents Jareau and Prentiss, can you come into my office? And you four," she gestured to the profilers and technical analyst waiting. "If you're going to hover out here and listen in you might as well join us." She allowed everyone in stiffly before shutting the door behind her.

"All due respect Ma'am, but you can't kick them off the team, we need Emily and JJ!" Morgan burst out, cutting right to the chase. The tension in the air was palpable, like a battlefield seconds before the fighting begins.

"I am not questioning the necessity of them, but rather whether Agent Jareau and Agent Prentiss will be able to work together and remain professional." She stressed.

"Of course they can, why wouldn't they?" Rossi interjected calmly, too experienced to get defensive.

"When I found them outside of the shooting range, they weren't acting professional." She retorted in a solely businesslike fashion. "I am solely concerned with the functionality of the BAU if two of their agents are in a relationship! There are rules against this for reasons; I can't have personal relationships taking priority over the jobs at hand." Penelope shuffled forward, looking slightly intimidated by Strauss' imposing title.

"Ma'am, but we all have personal relationships, that's what this job does. We're faced with all of these horrible situations, hunting down the twisted dregs of humanity, and we've bonded. We're a family; this team is full of emotional relationships. Now maybe not all of us are dating our team members, but we're all close friends, we're each other's siblings, partners, confidants, we're a family. And that can't be changed. Can you fire JJ and Spence for becoming like brother and sister? Can you fire Derek and me for flirting? Can you fire Hotch for looking out for us like we're his own? My point is, Ma'am, that we all have personal relationships, and it's that trust and that intimacy that allows us to operate as a team, to be able to lean on each other, and listen to each other, and make it through all the tough cases. I can only speak for myself, but if I didn't have this team, I wouldn't be able to do this job." She finished quietly, and most of us were slightly taken aback by the heartfelt rant from the usually quiet technical analyst. Morgan came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder to emphasize the point, smiling softly as she leaned into the touch. Spence gave me a soft glance, full of that brotherly love that Garcia had pointed out, and I smiled placing one of my hands on his shoulder, the other hand clutched softly in Emily's. Rossi and Hotch shared a quick glance before our team leader laid his protective gaze over the entire team. We were all connected, undeniably, and we all felt that. We were one, and we face everything as one. Strauss' face had softened ever so slightly, before she sighed.

"I can't really argue with that." She started off, before taking on a more professional tone of voice again. "I'll be observing you two for a while, to be sure that you can remain professional, but as of now, you two are still part of this team, although Agent Prentiss still has to complete her psychiatric evaluation to officially get her job back." The rest of the team sighed in relief, and we all began to file out of her office. "Agents Jareau and Prentiss, hold back." We both shared a nervous glance before stepping back.

"Yes Ma'am?" Emily asked politely, always the diplomat's daughter.

"On the record, I strongly advise against this, but off the record." She lowered her voice slightly, "Congratulations, I'm happy you have each other." She offered, in a voice that was almost maternal, and a slight smile. Slightly awestruck, Emily and I left the room and entered the bullpen where our friends were waiting anxiously. I repressed the urge to kiss Emily senseless with relief, knowing that we were already walking on thin ice with the whole 'acting professional' thing. We reached where the team was gathered, and apparently we weren't good at hiding our holding back, because Rossi rolled his eyes before announcing.

"Okay you two, get it over with, she's not watching." I let out a subtle squeal of happiness before hugging Em, placing a firm yet quick kiss on her lips, ignoring the whoops and cheers from the team. I pulled away slightly, still sticking close to her side, but turning to face the team.

"Very mature guys." Emily drawled, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Penelope left her spot besides Morgan to step forward.

"We're just happy for you two!" Penelope defended, "Plus I'm glad I don't have to jam up the system again to make sure you guys keep your jobs!" I remembered that time, the abandonment and sadness I had felt at the possibility of losing Emily all because of some political agenda.

"Well I still have to be proven sane enough to come to work." Emily joked, making no attempt to hide her irritation. I knew well enough that she absolutely hated therapists. "Can you hack the therapist's computer or something so I don't have to go?" she asked Garcia, who shook her head sadly. "Drat, I don't even get the point of a psych evaluation; all they do is ask you a bunch of stupid questions about your feelings. I mean how does it make me a better agent if I'm in a stable relationship, or whether I'm biting my nails!" she gestured irritably as the rest of the group murmured their responses.

"Well think of it this way, at least now you don't have to lie about dating your cat?" I offered, and from a couple desks over, Hotch chuckled at the memory.

"Officially we haven't been on a real date, so even that would be a lie." She clarified, and the rest of the group slowly drifted back to their desks and offices.

"Yes… when will this theoretical date be occurring?" I flirted, simply enjoying the undivided attention of the beautiful woman walking alongside me to her car.

"After I pass my stupid evaluation. Then we are celebrating, and what better way to celebrate?" her voice had taken on a husky tone which made my knees weak and head spin. It was amazing how just one sentence out of her mouth could take me back to when I was a love-struck highschooler, thriving on secret glances and hanging off her every word. One thing was for sure, Thursday evening, couldn't come soon enough.

**A/N I felt like I was running out of steam nearer to the end of that chapter, but mostly because I was preoccupied with conjuring up ideas for their date! I can't help it if I'm jumping ahead a bit! There are only about two more chapters to go until I reach the end, and I'm toying with the idea of writing and posting them all before I leave tomorrow! But I wouldn't want to sacrifice quality for quantity. (by the way, this chapter occurs on a Tuesday, the day of her firearms requalification as mentioned earlier, so next chapter will occur 2 days later)**

**-Nightshade**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N two in one day (kinda)! I was getting a bit antsy to write more, so here I am!**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Eighteen

Emily had went to the psychiatric evaluation on her own, toting a bag of clothes and insisting that she would change while she was out. She wanted to be able to pick me up and take me out like a real date, and one of the downsides of both of us living together is that it was near impossible to surprise each other for something like this. I had teased her slightly about her insistence, but truthfully I was flattered and intrigued that she was going to such extreme measures all for me. I was currently tearing into my closet as if it contained the secret to all happiness buried within. My bedroom had become a post-hurricane department store, with clothing and shoes covering every spare surface. I suddenly heard a knock on the door which sent me into panic mode.

"I'll be there in a second!" I called towards the door, trying to pick something to wear; Emily was like half an hour early!

"It's Penelope, your resident minder of children and fashion consultant!" the voice yelled from outside of the door, lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. Penelope had promised to babysit Henry as long as I told her "the scoop" on our date. I dashed to the door and threw it open, ushering her into the apartment while Henry announced her arrival at the top of his lungs.

"AUNT PENNNNY!" he yelled, drawing out her name as he ran from his room and into the foyer to give her a hug. I was so frazzled that I was almost about to give her one too.

"Penelope you're a lifesaver!" I gushed, desperately in need of the help. She gave me a saucy smile before replying.

"One of the many names I answer to sweets! Now why aren't you ready yet?" she queried, settling Henry before waltzing me into my room. "Holy mother of destruction! What did you do here, have a fight with your closet?" she gasped, taking in the state of disarray.

"I may be slightly nervous." I admitted, knowing that it goes without saying.

"You're preaching to the choir here sugarplum, but tell me this, you've known Emily for years, and you two are practically living together, why all the jitters?" she asked calmly while slowly sifting through the clothes and picking up possible outfits.

"Because this makes it all real! And she's being all secretive and I want it to be special!" I exclaimed while throwing my arms up in frustration.

"Aww Jayje, it will be special, no matter what you're wearing! You have nothing to worry about! Besides it's not like she's going to be paying attention to what the clothes look like when she's ripping them off of you tonight!" she gave me a devious grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively as I jokingly swiped at her arm.

"Oh come on! I'm not going to sleep with her on our first date!" I exclaimed while blushing like a fool. Penelope gave me a mischievous look before turning back to the pile of clothes in her arms. She picked up one article from the pile and passed it to me, motioning for me to get changed. Trusting in her choice, I slipped the dress over my head before looking at it in the mirror. It was fancy, but not too fancy, made from royal blue fabric with an elegant white scrolling pattern, with short, fluttery sleeves, slight cinching to accentuate my slender waist, and a knee-length loose skirt. I walked out into the main bedroom area for Penelope to comment on.

"See, this is one of the many reasons you keep me around!" she exclaimed, grabbing a pair of black kitten heels and a necklace and passing them to me. "Now you finish getting prettied up, and I'll make sure that the little jumping bean out there's ready to go." She excused herself while I applied finishing touches to my simple hairdo and minimal makeup. I had just kissed Henry goodbye and sent him off with Penny, when seemingly moments later the doorbell rang again. Thinking that it was the technical analyst returning after forgetting something, I opened the door and was shocked speechless by who stood behind it. Emily looked like a goddess, her soft, ebony hair was worn straight and down, framing her elegant smiling face like it was the finest work of art. I slowly trailed my eyes down her lithe figure, shamelessly checking her out, the plunging v-neck of her vibrant red dress, yes a dress, the way it clung to her every curve like it was worshipping her, and the way it was cut off at the knee, showing off her scars with pride. I finally reeled my mind back in, reminding myself that she was standing patiently outside of my apartment. A quick look at her face revealed her eyes roaming my body the same way I had just done to hers. Instead of feeling exposed and fidgety as I had whenever Will had done it, I felt wanted, loved even. She offered her hand and I accepted it gratefully, only momentarily enjoying the fiery sensations that danced across my palm where it came into contact with hers. We chatted amicably as she led me down to her car, holding the car door open for me as I got in.

"So I see that chivalry isn't dead." I exclaimed as she slid into the driver's seat beside me.

"Of course not! I was raised by diplomats, being polite was ingrained into me!" she exclaimed, and the statement coaxed a smile to my face. She used to be unable to mention her parents, especially her mother, at all, and now she was able to do it without wincing or getting sad and distant. Every little step forward for her was cause for me to celebrate. We arrived at what looked like a pretty expensive restaurant, and Emily led us in, muttering something to the maître d' before we were lead to a table. After ordering our meals I got a chance to look around, taking in the simple yet elegant décor and the high, airy ceilings which made the place look even more fancy.

"So I guess this means that you have your old job back." I ventured, while sampling the delicious food that had been placed in front of me.

"Of course! I'm perfectly, one-hundred percent sane." She confirmed with a smile.

"I don't know, we did all see that photograph of you in high school, are you sure about the sanity thing?" I teased, noticing her blush as she remembered the picture.

"It was a phase, I was immature back then!" she defended, her innocent smile morphing into a mischievous grin as she shoved me under the table with her leg.

"Hmm… playing footsies, you sure about the maturity comment as well!" we were both trying to contain our laughter so we didn't draw too much unwanted attention to ourselves.

"I'll have to get you back for that comment Jayje." She purred, manipulating the words so they sounded almost like music, melodious and flowing. I quirked an eyebrow under her suddenly sultry gaze.

"Get me back how?" I was about to continue when I felt her warm, smooth bare legs press against mine underneath the table, distracting me completely.

"I'm sure I'll find a way." She husked, and just the sound of her voice sent goosebumps tingling across my body. I took a gulp of the wine in front of me in hope that it would combat the dryness in my throat, and I felt my cheeks blush beet red. She took notice of my plight, and instead pressed onward. "What's wrong Jen, am I too much for you?" she was totally enjoying having me in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, if you knew what you're doing to me, God Em." I managed to get out in a voice that was halfway between a choke and a moan. She got up from the table, the delicious warmth of her legs vanishing, and I suppressed a groan of disappointment. Emily took my hand, leading me away from the table with the empty plates of food. I was slightly confused now.

"Wait, don't we have to pay for that?" I protested; a feeble protest at that.

"I happen to know the owner, I can pay him later, plus he owes me a favor or two." Her lips were nearly touching my ear as she whispered; the hushed words making my knees grow weak. We were back in the car in no time, Emily with one hand on the wheel, and the other tracing lazy circles on my thigh, tracking little trails of fire as they went. Under my haze of lust, I had barely realized when we were back at the apartment. The elevator doors had hardly shut before I was pinned against a wall, Emily's hands on my waist and her lips hot on mine. We arrived at her floor, struggling to unlock the door to her apartment between kisses.

"Henry?" she gasped, suddenly remembering.

"At Penelope's, all night." I panted heavily before I began kissing down her jaw, tracing the smooth curve of the elegant bone as she opened the door. We stumbled a few more feet into her apartment before my ankle hit a box, one of the many unopened that Em had moved around in her apartment to clear room for my things, sending me pitching backwards and taking Emily down as well. The floor greeted my head with a dull thud, and I lay dazed for a few milliseconds before a tentative laugh bubbled up from my chest.

"You always have been clumsy, is your head okay?" Emily chuckled from her spot on the floor next to me.

"Besides killing the mood and wounding my pride? It's a little bump, all I need is ice and I'm fine." I rubbed the sore spot on the back of my head, while Emily got up, returning seconds later with an icepack. She helped me to my feet, and I held the freezing object to the back of my head gingerly as I surveyed the mess we'd made. The box I had tripped on had tipped over, and the contents, a wooden box, an envelope, and some other miscellaneous items, had spilled onto the floor. Emily bent down, picking up the large white envelope labeled with her mother's name. The atmosphere in the room had sobered completely, as she tentatively opened the envelope and pulled out a set of papers with black print writing that danced and marched in front of my vision like ants in a row. I was feeling a bit dizzy, maybe I should sit down. I guided a silent Emily over to the couch; her eyes were still glued to the paper.

"What is it Em?" I asked, rubbing her shoulder which had suddenly tensed up. She looked up with a haunted gaze.

"It's my mother's will."

**A/N Hmm… where can this go? I apologize for it, but you guys will have to wait a week to find out! Your feedback makes my day!**

**-Nightshade**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N I'm baa-ck! And returning with the final chapter of What a Difference a Day Makes! It's been an amazing experience to write this, and all your encouraging comments made it all the better. Thank you for following my story this long and I hope that this last chapter does it justice, after all I've never been good at endings. A quick shout-out to Crazy Heart 101, whose review initially gave me the idea for this ending, I hope you all enjoy it.**

**-Nightshade**

**I don't own Criminal Minds!**

What a Difference a Day Makes

Chapter Nineteen

The tension in the room was palpable for the seconds we sat in silence. The envelope seemed like Pandora's Box, and opening it had released all the demons that Emily had been struggling so hard to fight and conquer. The words had finally stopped dancing in front of my vision dizzily so I could vaguely read what was written there.

"Emily?" I probed softly, testing the waters of her emotional climate. From a profiler's standpoint, all you could notice was a subtle tension in her back, and her eyes scanning the pages at a feverish pace. She still hadn't met my gaze, but spoke up softly.

"She essentially willed me her entire estate, my father was long out of the picture, so she gave it all to me." Her voice was pondering, searching, as if she was somewhat confused. She pulled a pale yellow sticky note from the last page, its warm color and flowing handwritten script contrasted the clinical feel of the clean white paper and computerized print. "It's a note about some box…" she trailed off, fingering the paper as her detached eyes scanned the room. Following her line of sight, I glanced at the small carved wooden box that had been tossed from its resting place in the box. I leaned over to reach it, holding the firm reddish wood in two hands and admiring the smooth finish in passing before I gave it to Emily. She held it with trepidation, as if it would explode should she hold it improperly.

"I can't open it Jennifer, what if it's her final chance to tell me what a disappointment of a daughter I was? What if it's-" I cut her nervous ramble off right there, placing my hand over hers to silence her.

"We'll open it together, it'll be fine." I reassured her, staying at a close distance as she pried open the delicate clasp. Pictures nearly spilled out the sides as we lifted the lid, exposing the contents to the dim lighting. Inside was a collection of photos, an array of colors and shapes and exotic scenery, and in each one, a child with soft ebony hair and warm brown eyes that melted me at first glance.

"She kept all these photos." Em was in awe, flipping through the stacks that had been lovingly organized, reading the captions on the back written with a caring hand. Pictures of her from babyhood to her teen years, in and around landmarks all around the world. A six year old Emily beneath the Eiffel Tower, a baby at the foot of the Leaning Tower Of Pisa, a toddler in Macchu Picchu, a teen in front of the Pyramids of Giza. She looked at all of them, nostalgic tears glistening in her eyes.

Beneath them all was a letter, the edges of the lined paper were gently faded with age, and it had been folded neatly in the bottom. With curious hands, she unfolded it, holding it up so we could read it.

_Dear Emily,_

_I realize that if you're reading this, then something's happened to me. But I'm not writing this to dwell on that. As I'm writing this, I'm on a plane over the ocean, flying off on assignment, away from you, which is possibly the worst feeling in the world. Every time I go away, I'm worried I'll miss another milestone of yours, your first time sitting up, your first steps, your first bike ride with no training wheels, all these things I'm supposed to be there for, I keep missing out on. I can't help feeling like a poor mother, because I keep missing out on all these opportunities to tell you how proud I am of you. You have truly become the centre of my universe, and denying that to do what I do is unbearable. I know I seem cold and detached, but it's the only way I can cope with leaving you behind or bringing you along despite the fact that I knew, even as a five year old, you hated politics, and all the schmoozing and parties that came along with it. So for all the times I wasn't there, for all the firsts I missed, for all the events I was late for, I am terribly sorry, and you deserve to know that. I am extremely proud of you, no matter whom or what you turn out to be, because you are my daughter and your every step is a miracle to me. Although, call it mother's intuition, with one look into your intelligent brown eyes I can tell that you're destined for greatness, and to help a lot of people. You're strong, you're my strong little girl and I love you, no matter how hard it is for me to show it. I need you to stay strong, and great, and keep moving forward, and know that even though you can't see me, I'm still shining down on you, as proud as I ever was._

_Love, Mom_

I found myself choked up by her letter, and I didn't even need to look over at Emily to know that she felt the same. She curled into my side, shedding a few wistful tears over the emotions the letter dredged up. We sat in the comfortable silence, taking turns wiping each other's tears and murmuring soothing nothings.

"She's proud of me." She sighed out of something akin to relief, fingering the edges of a photo of her and her mother, both with matching smiles, posing in front of a forest. Her eyes caught mine, the chocolate orbs filled with a bittersweet mix of elation and sadness. We sat together studying the photo; I made it my personal mission to memorize every gentle crease and curve to the youthful smiling face of a preteen Emily. We both just snuggled together, enjoying the moment of shared intimacy, with tears of happiness running down our cheeks. A knock on the door disturbed us, before a hyperactive blonde torpedo wrapped his arms around me and greeted me with kisses and hugs. Pen bustled through the door, calling out to me while still out of earshot.

"I apologize if I'm interrupting you two, but Henry forgot this stuffed lion, and he refused to go to sleep without it. So I hope that JJ was right when she said she isn't sleeping with you on your first date, because I don't need to be responsible for the trauma inflicted on your son if he walks in on you two getting your freak on- my goodness are you two okay?" she gasped, while taking in the scene. I tried to imagine what we must look like, curled up on the couch crying, with me holding an icepack to my head and the floor in front of us littered with the contents of the box I knocked over. Emily gave me a lighthearted glance before ruffling Henry's hair affectionately, earning an extra round of bear hugs from the toddler. I pressed kisses to both of their foreheads, admiring my little family with a heart overflowing with love and pride. Looking over at Penelope so she didn't feel forgotten, I paused for a moment before taking Emily's hand, twining her fingers with mine as a show of unity, the simple gesture evoking a smile.

"Yeah, we're all fine."

**/FIN/**

**A/N so that's it! I may consider a oneshot sequel or something, but for now I'm happy to leave it as is, with JJ, Emily, and Henry as one cute yet dysfunctional family. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story, and I hope that you enjoyed it. I'll miss this story, but I've got plenty more ideas waiting to be put into practice. Thanks for all your support once again, and I hope you'll stay tuned for new stories!**

**-NIghtshade**


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